Harry Potter and The Winter Court
by Id vs Ego
Summary: Harry Potter AU. October 31, 1981 James and Lily Potter find that Death isn't the end, and there was more to the prophecy than anyone thought. T for now, but may up the rating later. Smart, independent Harry.
1. Prologue

Harry Potter and The Winter Court

Prologue

James Potter woke up in a field of yellow flowers. He could remember a flash of light, followed by pain. The pain had been unbearable, crushing his sanity under the torrent of agony. He surveyed his body and found his slender legs covered in short brown fur and his feet replaced by hooves. He reached up to scratch his scalp and discovered an impressive rack of antlers protruding from his head. 'What in the name of Merlin happened to me?'

As he strained to recall the detail a body appeared a short distance away, curled on the flowers. He ran over to it and recognized his wife. Certain features were different. Her hair had become a vibrant crimson, seeming to shine in the sunlight, while her skin had paled to resemble alabaster.

Her face was contorted in pain, the same pain he felt getting here. James was relieved to see her breathing, even if in ragged gasps. After a moment her breathing slowed and her face relaxed. She woke up and looked at him, her eyes having changed slightly, with banded colors. Her original emerald green now occupied the central band bordered by ocean blue on the outside and aqua-marine in the inside. "James dear, what are we doing out here?"

"I'm not sure. I remember being in the house." He concentrated and certain things bits started falling back into place. "Tom was breaking through the door, and you were running up stairs. I tried to fight him, but he used his several curses on me. Then I woke up here."

Lilly was almost crying. "I remember seeing the flash under the door, then I heard something thump. That must have been you, because he started trying to open the door. We fought for a while, but he got the better of me."

She started sobbing, but continued. "Tom came in and I dueled him for a moment. He disarmed me, so I threw myself at him and pleaded for him to take me instead. When I wouldn't get out of his way he used the Killing Curse on me. Then I woke up to your face."

James wrapped his arms around his wife and let her cry onto his shoulder. Just as she was getting going there was a bright green flash nearby. They looked over in time to see a shadowy figure tear itself apart while issuing unearthly screams. The pieces went in different directions before vanishing, leaving a rolled blanket on the ground.

Lilly and James ran over and to find their son resting comfortably with a lightning bolt shaped cut on his forehead. Lilly bent down and gathered him into her arms gently. "Oh James, you realize what this means?"

"Yeah hun. We're in the Dream Lands. That bastard killed us all, but I think he bought it too, if that shadow was any indication." James was torn. He knew they were dead, but figured it could be worse. At least they were together.

"I thought the Lands of Dream were a myth, something to make Merlin seem larger than life."

James scratched his chin, "To be honest, so did I, but the family library was pretty extensive. When I was younger the stories of the Dream Lands were some of my favorites. I think that we ended up in one of the more sedate ones."

"But your son is not dead." A melodic voice said from behind them.

Lilly and James spun to see a tall woman standing before them. She had long hair the color of freshly tilled soil hanging in full waves half way down her back. Her eyes had the same banded configuration as Lily's but with a sunny yellow as the outer color, deep ocean blue in the middle, and grassy green in the center. Her skin had a healthy glow to it's even tan.

Lily instinctively went to a knee, knowing that she was in the presence of a great being. James bent down in concern. "What's wrong Lily? Who is she?"

Lily lifted her head to face her husband. "I'm not sure how I know this, but she is the Priestess of The Lady."

"The Lady. You mean the ancient Faye Goddess?"

"Yes. I am the Priestess of The Lady. She sent me to meet you here and explain what has happened, and what is still to come." Her voice was like a song, rising and falling elegantly from stress to stress.

James bowed politely to the supernatural creature of legend. "My Lady, pardon me. but I think we have a pretty good feel for what has happened." He gulped. "My whole family has been brutally murdered by the most feared dark wizard of our age, though he is nothing compared to those of the past. He was apparently killed as well if what I saw was correct. What more is there to know."

The Priestess smiled. "You are almost right. You and your wife are both dead, but your son is still alive. Because of certain hereditary traits he has only had his mind temporarily displaced. The enemy you speak of was not entirely alive, so death eluded him, he has been affected in a similar way to your son. But unfortunately he was drawn away by an even more dangerous enemy."

"What hereditary traits?" Lily asked.

"The old magical families, as you know them, have a trace of elvish blood from the ancient days when the two species intermingled. This gave many of the families unique and subtle abilities. In the case of the Potter line you posses a certain resistance to the spell known as 'The Killing Curse'."

"The ones that you consider non-magically born magic users are descended from Human/Faye pairings. Where the purebloods have been slowly breeding the magic out of their lines, the non-magical with Faye blood have been seeking each other out. When your two lines crossed it produced one of many such children with a much greater potential. It also amplified his immunity, allowing him to survive the spell that should have killed him and rebound it unto the caster. Due to the side effects of the curse he now has the ability to reach his true potential."

Lily clutched her bundled son to her chest. "He's just a baby. You can't plan out his life for him. He deserves to have as close to a normal life as he can."

"I understand your concern. I too have children and it took me much time to realize that their destinies were quiet different from the ones I may have hoped for them. But you have heard the part of the Prophecy that made it through to your reality. Your son has been marked, and now all that we can do is ensure that he is as ready as possible, or the entire multiverse will suffer."

"What do you mean?" James asked as he held his wife and comforted her.

"Thomas Riddle has been taken to the pole of order. There he will be taught how to summon the ancient evil into your reality. If that happens the dream lands will fall, with nothing to balance his influence it would only be a matter of time."

"Ancient Evil? Pole of Order? What are you talking about?" James looked confused. Despite his long hours of study as a young man he had never come across anything like this.

"The multiverse is polar, with your Earth at the pole of Chaos. In your universe there is freedom and choice. You can choose how to live and, especially in your case, how you die. You chose to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your son. At the other end is the Pole of Order, where nothing has a choice. It is ruled by a being of unimaginable power that watches everything. He has absolute control of every particle in that universe. He has spread his influence out to neighboring worlds in the dreamlands, if you have heard the tale of the King in Yellow it is a tale of his success. We have managed to keep him isolated within his kingdom, since that has occurred, if he should manage to gain a foothold in your reality it would be catastrophic. He would spread like a cancer through all of the multiverse."

"What does this have to do with the Prophecy and our son?" Lily asked with a shaky voice.

"You never heard the whole prophecy. Only a Fragment made it through to your reality." The Priestess waved her hand and a shadowy form appeared next to her.

The figure spoke in a detached voice. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the eighth moon dies, And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives, The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the eighth moon dies, One a Warrior of Order, the other a Knight of Chaos, They will do battle many times before one must die, either preserving the universe, Or plunging all into darkness." After finishing it's monologue the form dissolved back into the nothingness from which it had come.

"Your son will be the Avatar of Free Will in this universe. Due to both your sacrifice and the Prophecy young Harry will be able to enter here freely from the waking world."

"Does this mean we'll still be able to see him?" Lily asked with her voice full of hope.

The Priestess smiled, "You will be able to raise him here. He only need spend a total of two moons each thirteen in the waking world."


	2. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and The Winter Court

Chapter 1

Authors Note: The part in the prophecy is moons, not months. We decided this would be more appropriate given the mythologies we are introducing.

Ten Years Later in the waking worlds.

At 4 Privet Drive in the London suburb of Surrey it was another normal morning. The sun rose over the trees in the normal way, the birds chirped normally, even the dew was lifting by the normal time.

But one very unusual thing was happening this morning. For the past ten years a boy that lived there had just been led around like a zombie, life only returning to his eyes long enough for him to eat. His Aunt and Uncle assumed that he was somehow had his brain damaged by the explosion that had killed his parents. They decided to treat the boy with sympathy because of his condition, giving him the cupboard under the stairs so he could be out of the way when he was not eating.

This morning his eyes opened with a life that they had never known before, a fire that caused his emerald green eyes to burn in the darkness. In his hands were three items that had not been there five minutes earlier. Held in his left hand were two leather bound journals, one each with the names of his parents. In his right hand was clasped an aged letter addressed to the goblins at Gringotts.

It was almost time for breakfast if Harry remembered correctly, leaving him just enough time to hide his belongings before going out to the kitchen. He sat at his usual place and waited quietly for his aunt to set a plate before him.

He met her eyes and said. "Thank you Aunt Petunia."

She stared into the green eyes that now looked exactly like those of her sisters. The limitless intellect that shone out of those orbs was so different from what had been there for the last ten years, like he had finally returned to himself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the entry of her husband and son, her fat child banging his new stick on every surface he could find.

She was about to get Vernon's attention when the mail flap clicked, followed by Harry hopping up and heading for the door, saying over his shoulder, "I'll get it."

Vernon and Petunia shared a troubled look as their nephew departed, each one thinking the same thing.

Harry walked down the short hall, past his small living space, and to the front door. There on the mat was the pile of freshly delivered mail. Right on the top was the letter he had been told to expect, the message from Hogwarts. He slid the yellowed parchment into his pocket and carried the rest into his relatives.

When he resumed his seat he ate his food quickly and then wiped his mouth before looking to his Aunt. "Thank you for the delicious breakfast Aunt Petunia. I'm afraid that I'll be gone most of the day. I have to go into London and get a few things for school in the fall."

His uncle snorted, "What School? You've never went to school in your life?"

Harry smiled at Vernon's surprise, "I'll be going to Hogwarts. My letter just came in with the mail."

Petunia looked like she was about to faint, "How do you know about that place?"

"My parents told me." Harry replied calmly.

"I will not pay for you to go to some asylum and learn magic tricks." His uncle screamed.

"You aren't being asked to pay for anything. I have been given a full scholarship to attend." He lied to his relatives, realizing that if they knew about the vault full of gold under London that he had inherited that they would try to steal it. He had learned a great deal about his relatives while sitting in a semi-catatonic state for so long. While they believed he couldn't hear anything they had discussed many things including how unfortunate it had been that Harry's parents had died penniless. "I need to get going now, there's a lot to do."

Harry walked from the room and left the house, heading toward the train station.

Dudley looked at his father and asked, "Who was that, and what did he do with Harry?"

xxxXXXxxx

Harry made his way to the local train station and purchased a one-way ticket to London. Fortunately the train had just finished unloading so he could board immediately. As he rode the train he let his mind wonder.

Returning fully to the waking world was going to be an interesting experience. Having to learn so much about the modern world just to interact with others was just one challenge that he now faced. All the obstacles that were known to him had been categorized by his parents into three groups: those that had to be avoided, those that needed to be dealt with as they came, and those that should be actively sought.

He got off the train when it stopped at the station closest to the invisible pub know as the Leaky Cauldron, glad to have the money he lifted out of his uncles 'mad money' over the years.

"Have a good day, sir." The station attendant said as Harry walked away. The wad of cash left over was almost twice what the ride had actually cost, which left him in a pretty good mood as he walked down Charring Cross road.

Harry made his way confidently to the pub entrance, which popped into existence on his approach. Lifting the latch and swinging the door inward the smell of some sort of meat cooking wafted out to meet him. It reminded him that his body needed a great deal of energy to make all the necessary changes. Taking his hunger firmly in hand the rumbling of his stomach subsided and he walked in.

The inside of the Leaky Cauldron was just as dark and seedy as his father had described, from the old trophies on the walls to the almost as old patrons sitting in the corners, surrounded by clouds of multicolored pipe-smoke. Just as he was half way between the front and the door in the back that led to a closed off alley that would give him admittance to Diagon Alley a primly dressed, middle aged woman walked out of the fireplace. She started toward the same door he was bound for, causing him to hurry to make sure she didn't get too far ahead.

Exiting the building, Harry found the woman drawing her wand from the folds of her robes.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked.

The woman turned to face him, "Can I help you young man?" She asked. Something about this boy was familiar, like someone she had known long ago. Then she noticed the color of the child's eyes. The same shade as Lily, and the tousled hair of James, of course.

"Yes, ma'am. I was hoping you could let me into the alley."

"Of course, come on. My name is Poppy Pomfrey. You must be here for your school supplies." Pomfrey said with a gentle smile on her face.

"Yeah, I just need to go by Gringotts to get some money and then the rest of my stuff." Harry answered.

"Well then, let's get you moving then." She said as she tapped the appropriate brick, triggering the transformation. A small hole appeared in the wall and quickly grew into an over sized archway large enough to drive a truck through. "Welcome to Diagon Alley Mr. Potter."

Harry looked in awe at the sprawl stretched out before him. He had visited a Bazaar once with his parents during their exploration of the dreamlands. That place had been seven miles on the shortest side but perfectly organized to allow a shopper to find whatever they were looking for quickly and easily. This place was the embodiment of chaos by comparison, with so many store fronts packed into the small space that it threatened to spill out onto the street.

Harry smiled at her, "So you know who I am?"

"Yes." She said wistfully, "I knew your parents when they attended Hogwarts. I'm the Healer, and on that vein, I do hope I don't see as much of you as I did of your father."

"I remember reading about that in my father's journal. I also would like to avoid some of the injuries that he had."

As they reached the front of Gringotts Harry was once again astonished by the grand nature of the building. It seemed to be carved from a single piece of white marble with huge silver doors large enough to fit a dragon. The doors were pushed open by a pair of goblins who bowed as the pair passed. Then through a pair of gold doors that mirrored the outer set.

The main chamber was well appointed with gold bars and wall fittings acting as a counterpoint to the polished marble of the structure. Harry withdrew a sealed letter from his pocket and walked confidently to the counter and handed it over.

He bowed his head and addressed the goblin, "I would like to retrieve some items and money from my family vault."

The goblin broke the seal and opened the dry parchment. As he read the message his face softened barely. Finally he handed the letter back and spoke, "I will have a copy cut from the original key immediately, then you may wish to see your account manager."

"Thank you, will it take long?" Harry asked respectfully.

Another goblin appeared at his shoulder and was introduced as Bogrod. He led Harry into a private office and reviewed the letter for himself.

"It will only take another moment for the key to be cut Mr. Potter. According to that letter you are to be allowed to take two specific items and whatever money you think you might need from the vault today. Also there is a stipulation for you to continue to remove money from your vault once a year, every year until you reach the age of majority. I would like to know how much you intend to retrieve so we can take the proper number of bags with us."

Harry thought for a moment, trying to remember what he had been told about the way money worked in this world. Then he recalled something his mother had said about goblins and money. "I need enough to get my first year supplies and have some for spending until next year. How much do you suggest?"

The goblin looked surprised to be asked for his opinion by a human. "I would recommend that you take an assortment of coins totaling no more than five-hundred Galleons."

"That sounds good. Thank you." Harry said gratefully. "I was wondering how much I actually have in the account."

"I will have a statement prepared for you. I am sorry that you have not been receiving your statements but Mr. Dumbledore thought it better if your aunt and uncle not know about your account. If you would like we can start sending you the usual notices." Bogrod said with a hint of irritation.

"I would like that, and thank you for your consideration. My relatives are not the most trustworthy in the world. Though I'm not sure they could have actually gotten anything out of my account."

At that moment a goblin walked in and handed the manager a golden key. "The replacement for Mr. Potter."

"Thank you Griphook. I'll take Mr. Potter down personally."

Griphook bowed. "Of course Bogrod"

Bogrod led the way to a side door that opened onto a rough stone hallway lit with torches. At the end they found an iron mining cart that Harry eyed tentatively.

As Bogrod climbed aboard he caught the look on the young boy's face. "What's the matter Mr. Potter?"

Harry shook his head lightly, clearing the memory of what had happened last time he was underground. Climbing aboard he said, "Just a bad feeling." He settled himself into the seat and the cart rolled off on it's own.

Bogrod looked at the boy and his face softened, an interesting effect on a goblin, "Many people have that reaction when they first see the carts. But I assure you that they are goblin crafted and enchanted to never fail or degrade. Also they know where they are going on their own, so it keeps anyone from getting lost." He glanced around nervously and then leaned in close to continue. "In all honesty there are only a few goblins who could actually navigate the entire maze of passages. Even I would get lost if I went lower than the first two levels."

Harry grinned and chuckled, "In that case I'm really glad that we have the cart. But why are you telling me this?"

"You chose to not only ask my advice, but to also take it. Most humans are not willing to accept magical creatures as more than well trained beasts. But you are different, in a way that has not been seen in a long time. Respect works both ways, with yours you gained mine." The goblin finished as they were pulling to a halt before the boy's family vault. He did not mention the formal apology from James Potter in the letter Harry had handed over or the plan the goblins had. All they needed now was a subject.

They both got out and Harry handed over his key. The goblin opened the heavy vault door and motioned Harry to enter. Inside he found many huge piles of bronze, silver, and gold coins scattered through the room. Along the walls were scattered several artifacts that looked like they had just been dusted that day.

Harry glanced around and consulted the letter, spotting the two items he was looking for. He walked over to a weapons rack and took a dagger from it. As he examined the fine craftsmanship several markings came out of the designs. The runes told him the blade's past. They described the history of the knife, starting with it being given to a Roman general as a reward for helping to put down The Great Illiryn Uprising. Then he had been assigned to the frontier, managing a city state in the British isles. After that it had been passed to the youngest son of each generation, ending with him as the only child. Then the runes described the powers of the blade. Nothing special, just ever sharp and ever clean charms, and a rune of ownership. The last one made it impossible to take the dagger from its owner without their permission. Assuming he remembered his Aunt Vervandi's lessons correctly that is.

Harry loosened his belt and ran the thin leather through the metal loop in the sheath. Then he refastened the belt and adjusted the positioning of the blade. Happy with the balance on his hip he drew the thin metal from its holder and examined the weapon. It was pure bronze with a razor sharp edge and intricate designs worked into the metal with silver. It must have been a trick of the flickering torch light that caused the pattern to shift as he watched it, flowing toward the tip of the blade.

He replaced the knife in its protective sheath and looked over to the next item he was allowed to take with him. It appeared to be just a simple trunk, with bronze fittings and straps. The unusual thing about it was the nine locks adorning its front. From what his father had said it contained his school robes from his years at Hogwarts. One year's robes went in each section, with two extras for odds and ends. Harry looked at the matching trunk sitting next to it, this one with silver trim, and reported to contain his mother's robes. He took the keys from the top of his trunk and slid them into his pocket. Then he grabbed the handle on the top of the trunk and easily lifted it.

Turning he saw Bogrod holding two coin filled bags out to him. The goblin bowed when he took them and spoke, "Are you ready Mr. Potter?"

"Sure. This looks like everything." He said.

Bogrod led the way back to the cart and opened a compartment to secure the belongings. Then they climbed back aboard and started the wild ride back to the surface. When Harry reentered the lobby he was surprised to see Poppy waiting for him. He walked over to her and smiled, "I wasn't expecting you to wait Madam Pomfrey. I'm sure you have other things to do."

She smiled at the young man's thoughtfulness, just like his mother, "That's okay, besides I thought you might like some company."

"Yeah it would be nice to have someone to talk to. It's been pretty lonely being ignored in my cupboard for the past few years." Harry said it nonchalantly, hoping to get the Dursleys in as much trouble as possible.

Pomfrey did her best to hide the disgust for the Muggles that had been allowed to raise this special boy, but a slight wince momentarily crossed her features. She quickly wiped it away, "Where do you want to go first?"

"Let's go see about a wand first. According to my school supply list I need one of those."

"Certainly, we'll head to Olivander's, he makes most of the wands around here."

As the humans left Griphook walked up to Bogrod, "What's the deal?"

Bogrod handed over the letter and smiled, "Situation 47."

Griphook smiled deviously.

xxxXXXxxx

Harry walked into the dark shop alone, Poppy saying that she had something else to take care of. Inside he saw what loaded like thousands of thin boxes stacked on shelves that twisted toward the back of the shop. He heard a bell tinkle somewhere in the back of the shop as he closed the door and extended his senses into the area. He immediately withdrew as every wand in the room flared magically in that sight.

Suddenly he jumped as a small voice came from somewhere behind him, "I see you are here for your first wand, young man."

Harry spun around to find a kind faced little man with thinning grey hair. "Yes sir. I'm starting Hogwarts this year."

"Then we should get started." Olivander said as he took a tailors tape from his pocket and started measuring every possible dimension of the youth. As the tape took over the task he walked away to start pulling wand boxes from the shelves. When he returned with a dozen wands he said, "That's enough."

The tape fell lifelessly to the floor and Harry found a wand being help out for him. He reached out, but as soon as his fingers closed around the wand it was pulled away and another was offered. This process was repeated, with Olivander returning to the shelves occasionally to get more wands. The pile of the discarded wands was mounting, with the old man mumbling about Harry being a difficult case. Finally he took one last wand off the shelf and placed it in the boy's hand.

As soon as his fingers closed around the wand Harry felt the surge of power through his body. He brought the wand up and swished it back down smoothly. As the short arc came to its lowest point a wave of light and pressure emitted from the end of the wand, forcing Olivander back and onto a spindly chair that creaked dangerously. The shock wave flowed through the ship, emptying entire shelves and leaving both the occupants with a sense of peace from the faint bird song that seemed to echo off the magic in the room.

Olivander jumped to his feet, bouncing happily, "Well. It looks like we found the right wand. But usually the reaction is not quiet so powerful."

Harry looked around the shop in surprise at the devastation he had caused. "I'm sorry sir. I'll help you clean up."

"No need my boy." Olivander said with a wave of his own wand, putting everything back in its place. Even the pile of tried wands was put away properly. "I just haven't seen something that strong in years, and I've been making wands for a long time. But I'm not surprised that it would be you. You see that wand has a brother out there, the one that gave you that scar on your forehead. And the one who holds it has done great things, terrible yes, but still great. From your reaction alone I can tell that we can expect great things from you as well."

He quickly wrapped the wand up and accepted the payment, showing Harry out the door with a smile.

Once outside he found Poppy returning from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. She smiled at him and said, "Glad to see that I was in time to catch up with you."

"Anything important?" Harry asked.

"Not really. Just had to get in touch with an old friend." She said with a slightly forced smile. Madam Pomfrey took her wand out and asked, "I'm a medi-witch, and I like to get a baseline for my students when I can, so do you mind?"

"Not at all." Harry said as he put his arms out.

Poppy went through the motions and silently cast the diagnostic spells. Her eyes went wide with surprise at the sheer number of injuries that were present in the young boy's pattern. She could see no less than seven different times he had suffered broken bones, the most recent just a few weeks old. The rest seemed to be very faded, indicating that they were at least eight years old. The addition of a severe case of malnutrition caused her to develop a frown on her face. She tried to keep her voice level as she asked, "How have you suffered so many injuries?"

Harry sighed, "Had a rough childhood, growing up the way I did. My relatives were convinced that if they treated me badly enough I might be closer to their definition of normal."

"Did this include physical violence?"

Harry's eyes became distant, as though he was remembering something unpleasant. "Yeah, one time they locked me in my cupboard with a broken arm. By the time they took me to the hospital it was too late and the doctor had to re-break it and then set it. They thought they could beat the magic out of me" Harry knew that she had picked up the echo of all the times he had broken a bone during training while in the dreamlands, and his body reacting to his other build causing the malnutrition. But anything that helped him get clear of his nosey relatives was fair game. With any luck he could be out of that house within a week.

It wasn't that his relatives were anything more than a little prejudiced and neglectful, but he really needed a magical environment to live in if he was going to practice all the abilities he had.

"I see. I'm sorry I asked." She motioned for him to continue to the next shop as a brilliant flame burned in her heart.

xxxXXXxxx

As they entered Madam Malkin's shop Harry could see that he was not the only customer. A thin girl around his own age with bushy brown hair was standing on a stool while a short witch moved around adjusting the fit of her robe. All the occupants looked up at the new arrivals and the seamstress said, "If you would just step onto the other stool I'll be with you in a moment."

"I have some of my father's robes if that's okay. I just think they need to be adjusted." Harry said as he opened the first compartment of the trunk and pulled out the clothing.

"That will be fine." The witch said as she bustled over and started making the alterations. Her work was eased by the fact that the robes were enchanted to cooperate. "Would you like some room to grow into, just in case you hit a growth spurt when you get to school."

"Please." Harry said. "I expect that I should start growing some, if my father's journals are any indication."

As the witch went back and forth between her two customers Poppy went to her friend and co-worker and said. "Why hello Minerva. I wasn't expecting to see you here. That explains why you aren't in your office."

"Were you trying to get hold of me Poppy?" McGonagall asked, a slight frown on her face.

"Yes. I really need to talk to you, if you can get away." She glanced over her shoulder to indicate the student she had walked in with.

Minerva's eyes narrowed as she recognized the boy that she had last seen when he was one. She nodded and pulled her friend into the back of the shop, saying to her own student, "I'll be back in a moment Ms. Granger. Just wait here if you finish."

The girl nodded and turned to the boy standing next to her, "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. I can't believe that I'm going to learn magic. My folks were so surprised when my letter showed up."

Harry could hardly believe that someone could say that much so quickly without running something together. "I'm Harry Potter. My mom had the same experience when she got her letter. She wrote in her diary that her sister was I little put off about the whole thing."

In the back of the shop McGonagall was browsing hair pieces as a cover and said, "Now what do you need to tell me Poppy, you look like you've just had a ghost pass through you."

"I wish I felt that good. I did a scan of young Mr. Potter, and what I found was disgusting." She said.

"He does look a bit small for his age." Minerva said thoughtfully, "And he could use a few good meals to help him fill out."

"It's worse than that. He is suffering from severe malnutrition, but that isn't the half of it. He has apparently been suffering broken bones since the age of three. He told me that those muggles he lives with make him live in a locked cupboard, and one time they put him in there with a broken arm." She shuddered.

The Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts felt her magic rising dangerously as her rage flared into life. "I told Albus." She spat. "I told him not to leave Harry with those muggles. No, those scum, calling them muggles is an insult to the rest. Anyone who would beat a three year old to the point of breaking bones deserves to die."

Poppy backed away as she felt the hot breeze coming off of her friend, knowing that it must be ten times worse inside the stern woman. Finally Minerva regained control of herself and sighed, "I'll escort you when you take him home, after I've returned Miss Granger. Then we can see what these sad excuses for human beings have to say for themselves."

xxxXXXxxx

Harry and Hermione went into Flourish and Blotts on their own as McGonagall and Pomfrey waited outside and talked. The children made their rounds, chatting as they picked up all the books they would need for the first year of school.

"Oh I can't wait to start learning all these spells!" Hermione squealed as she flipped through 'The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)'.

"Magic isn't just spell throwing, you know." Harry said as he handed her a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

"I know," The bushy haired girl said as she switched books. "But I just can't wait to start learning all this stuff. Where do you think I should start?"

He sighed, "You have just over a month to read all of this, so take it easy."

"But we have to be prepared for our classes. If we don't get an early start we could be hopelessly behind." She whined as she grabbed two copies of 'A History of Magic', handing him one.

"Even though I'm sure at least one will be, most of our teachers won't be expecting us to be letter perfect in the subjects before we get there." Harry said. Then he smiled and handed her a copy of 'Magical Theory'. "You may want to start with this."

She bounced on the balls of her feet as she opened the book and said absently, "Of course, what better place to begin."

He led her around like a zombie, stacking 'A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration' and 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' on top of the pile held in one hand. She started to come out of her torpor when the weight of 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection' was added to the already considerable load.

As they got the last book on the list, 'Magical Drafts and Potions', Harry noticed a dusty book laying on top of the book case. He pulled the book down and brushed the dust from the cover. The runes inscribed into the surface of the old leather briefly flashed a soft blue, as he recognized the name in the title.

Hermione looked over his shoulder and asked, "Can you read that?"

"Yeah. My aunt taught me how to read this language a few years ago." He replied. Harry placed the book with his others and said, "I know someone who would like to have this back."

"Really, who? Your aunt?" She asked.

"No. The writer, Thrud." Was his only answer as he headed for the counter. Harry then sighed, "I'm just hoping that I don't have any problems with potion making. That has always been a fear of mine." 'Ever since Mom tried to teach me.' He thought shuddering.

"Why is that a fear, I mean it's just like chemistry and that isn't very hard." Hermione absently said, while still looking through the theory book.

"It just is. Now let's pay for these books and get out of here, before your stack tops your head." said Harry as they reached the counter.

xxxXXXxxx

Harry waved to Hermione and said, "Good to meet you. See you on the train."

The bushy haired girl waved back and then grabbed hold of Minerva's hand as they both vanished. Harry turned to Poppy and said, "I guess I should call the Knight Bus."

She smiled at him gently and said, "I think we can find another way." She held out her hand. As he took it she triggered the effect and Apperated them both away from the Alley.

Harry felt his whole body being compressed by a rubbery blackness. His vision was completely obscured for a moment that felt like a small eternity, the only sensation he was still sure about being the tender grasp of the woman next to him and the weight of his trunk. His feet hit ground and he looked around, quickly recognizing Privet Drive. "Thanks. That was certainly an interesting experience." He said as he went to pull away.

Pomfrey tightened her grip, saying "I think you need to wait for a moment. Professor McGonagall has decided to come by and have a word with your relatives about you attending school this fall."

As if on que the Deputy Headmistress appeared with a pop. She had a stern look on her face and a fire in her eyes as she glanced over to number 4. "We might as well get this over with." She said, a cold edge to her voice.

They all set off for the house where Harry had spent the last ten years. He had a tiny smile on his face as he imagined the upcoming events.

xxxXXXxxx

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were just sitting down to five o'clock news as they heard a knock at the front door. Secretly they had been dreading the boy's return ever since his odd outburst at breakfast. Vernon now suspected that it was time for the other shoe to drop. He rose from his seat, motioning for his wife to stay put, and went to the door.

Opening it he was surprised to find not just his nephew, though he would never admit to the relationship, but two middle-aged women as well. They were both dressed in a most peculiar fashion as far as he was concerned, with long flowing black robes and pointed hats. He assumed that they were some more of those freaks, like his sister-in-law and her worthless husband, and quickly decided to give them the greeting they deserved. "I see you brought the boy home. Now you can be off."

The Witch on Harry's right spoke in strained polite tones, "Mr. Dursley. We wish to come in and have a few words with you about your nephew."

"What has he done? Mind you it has nothing to do with us. He went swadding off this morning with barely a word about where he was going or when he should be back." He said, suddenly defensive.

The other Witch spoke in the same barely controlled voice. "We are both employees of Hogwarts, and would just like to have a few words. To help you understand what is going on."

He barely moved to allow them entry, mumbling in what he obviously thought was an inaudible tone, "Bloody freaks. Forcing their way into my home again. Hope no one saw them skulking about the door."

Harry continued down the hall to his cupboard while the two women turned to enter the living room. After Vernon had retaken his seat one of them spoke, "I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and this is Poppy Pomfrey, our healer."She said with a nod to her friend. "It has come to our attention that certain injuries have befallen young Mr. Potter."

Vernon roared to his feet, "That little snitch! Gone and cried about me spanking him when he was younger. And you coming in here and accusing me of abusing him!"

Poppy could take it no longer. She whipped out her wand and, with a few quick flips of her slender wrist, silenced and bound both the Dursleys to their chairs.

Minerva then continued, "Thank you Poppy. Now let me make one thing perfectly clear. Discipline is important for a child, otherwise they will not mature into an adult." She took a deep breath and then yelled, "That does not include breaking bones and locking the child in a dark closet."

Poppy gave her friend a moment to compose herself while she spoke. "We have our ways of monitoring the situation here. We did not feel them necessary before today, but now I can see that they are vital to the survival of one of our students. If we ever detect any harm coming to him from any member of this family you will regret it." Her tone promised a fate worse than death if they dared to break this commandment.

McGonagall had recovered enough to close the conversation. "We will be watching you very closely, and should anything, untoward, happen, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand us?"

The Dursleys nodded furiously at the paired glares they were receiving. Poppy then said, "In that case, we will be going."

The two Witches swept from the room and down the hallway to where the cupboard door was standing open. Harry stepped out and smiled at them, "Thanks. They probably won't listen, but at least you tried. And besides, I'll be out of here soon enough."

Minerva's eyes glinted dangerously, "I don't think this is a lesson they will soon forget. Goodbye Harry it has been a pleasure meeting you."

"The pleasure was all mine, ladies. Hope you have a good return." He said as they walked out the front door.

xxxXXXxxx

Four hours later Vernon and Petunia Dursley were finally able to move, though their voices still refused to work. They stared at each other in horror at the twist that reality had taken them on.

xxxXXXxxx

Thanks for the reviews, they are always appreciated. Hope you are enjoying the story.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: We do not own the Harry Potter series. It is the property of J. K. Rowling. This is meant for entertainment purposes only.

Harry Potter and the Winter Court Chapter Two

The next morning Harry joined his aunt in the kitchen and fell in helping her prepare breakfast. She paused in mid-step, startled by the boy's involvement. After a moment she shook herself and asked harshly, "What do you think you are doing?"

"I'm helping with breakfast." he said as he flipped the bacon.

"Since when do I need help?" She spat.

"I figured that I should start helping out, now that I'm better." He responded, pouring orange juice into the four glasses.

She felt her anger rising, and then the sudden cramp in her leg reminded of the extended time she had spent sitting last night. Thanks to those damn witches, both her and Vernon would be sore for most of the day from that episode. But the pain triggered the memory of what had caused it, deflating her emotions quickly. She finally said, "Well fine. If you must help, try not to burn anything, or your uncle will be furious."

He smiled, "I'll try."

Harry continued tending the cooking items, eventually transferring it to the plates. He moved the juice to the table as Vernon walked in, glaring at him. "What are you doing boy?"

"I'm helping." he replied as he went back for the food.

Harry's uncle harrumphed, but decided not to comment. As the young wizard set the plates on the table the middle aged man eyed it suspiciously, expecting it to start slithering off the surface any moment. Harry on the other hand took his seat and started eating, forcing himself to eat slowly despite the ravenous hunger gnawing at him. Dudley waddled in and took his place, oblivious to the strained silence between the other members of the household.

Shortly after finishing his meal, the young wizard rose and carried his dishes to the sink. He then headed for the door, saying, "I'm going to move my things into the spare bedroom." Before anyone could argue the point he disappeared, the swishing of the door the only sign of his passing.

Ten seconds later he heard his cousin whining, "But it's mine. I need it."

Then his uncle bellowed, "Quiet." Harry heard the overweight man storming toward the kitchen door. Vernon stopped on the other side of the small door and mumbled, "It really is better for you to move up there anyway. As we need the cupboard for extra storage."

"How magnanimous of you. I might die from the kindness." Harry said sarcastically.

"Don't take that tone with me." Harry's Uncle bellowed.

Harry cut him off, saying, "Or what? You'll spend another night unable to move."

The puce color drained from the middle-aged man's face, leaving him pale as his mouthed worked soundlessly.

Harry smiled and headed up the stairs with all of his things packed into his trunk.

xxxXXXxxx

That night Harry had cleaned up and organized his new room. He boxed up many of the broken toys from Dudley's previous birthdays and stacked them in the closet. He then took a pin from his pocket and stabbed deeply into the tip of his right pointer finger. He then squeezed the finger for blood and turned to the door. He spent the next five minutes constructing a runic circle on the door, pausing occasionally to coax more blood from the wound. The work started with a six inch, perfectly round circle, followed by a large rune that looked like a possible derivative for several modern runes in the center, representing the entire effect. Then he wrote the details of the spell around the inner circle, detailing what would happen to any who dared to invade his space. Finally he enclosed the entire intricate design within another perfect circle.

As the outer circuit closed Harry infused his energy into it, and the array briefly flared a brilliant cerulean blue. Then he took his finger away and the light faded, leaving only the bare white door.

The young wizard then went to the broken mirror and placed his bleeding finger on the cracked surface. He slowly inscribed another, much smaller circle of runes and closed it. As he expected the cracks mended themselves, completely repairing the reflective surface. Then the clear reflection became cloudy, swirling slowly, and Harry knew it was ready. He leaned forward and said to the mirror, "Lilly and James Potter."

The swirling became more violent, reminding Harry of a tornado he had once observed. In the center a point of light appeared, spreading toward the edges, driving the instability back. The image resolved into his parents, looking down through the mirror, with the sky as a backdrop. "Nice to finally hear from you son." James Potter said, his voice mildly distorted by the transition.

"Sorry." Harry said. "I had to get something extra to eat last night. My body is trying to grow into my other physique. And you did tell me I needed to start living here more."

"It's alright, sweetie." Lilly said. "We just got used to seeing you all the time, so it takes some getting used to."

xxxXXXxxx

Hermione Granger was driving her parents crazy, bouncing from book to book, trying to absorb as much information as possible. This resulted in her making random outbursts as new ideas linked together in interesting ways. She was reading one of her history books while her father was perusing a dental journal and her mother was going over some of their bills. Alan Granger looked up from his journal and asked, "So, How did it go yesterday?"

His daughter set the book down and turned to face her parents, "It was great. I met some goblins at this bank called Gringotts. Then I got my wand from this creepy old guy named Olivander." She was speaking with an excited speed that left little room to breath, "Then she took me to get some robes, and I met this boy, Harry, and we talked about school. He's starting this year as well. He's really smart and we talked while we picked up our other things."

Samantha Granger was happy to hear that her daughter was finally making friends. Hermione was smarter than most kids her age and didn't realize how annoyed other kids could get about her encyclopedic habit. Now she had been a part of the magical world for less than a month and already had a friend. She said, "I'm happy you're enjoying this dear. We were so worried that you'd be disappointed when you started this."

"It's great mum. So many things to learn, and with someone to study with it can be a lot of fun."

The Grangers nodded at each other and went back to their tasks. After about fifteen minutes Hermione gasped, holding her hand to her mouth to try to cover her overlarge front teeth. Samantha looked up suddenly and asked, "What is it dear, something shockingly different about the wizard version of history?"

The Granger's youngest daughter shook her head and said, "I just found an entry on Harry Potter."

Alan scratched his chin, saying, "Can't say I know that name."

"When he was fifteen months old his parents were murdered by a dark wizard. Then that same wizard tried to kill Harry, but the spell backfired, and no one has seen him since." Hermione summarized the page long bio.

Her mother frowned, "That sounds like a tragic story. But how does that explain your reaction?"

"That young man I met yesterday. His name is Harry Potter." Hermione said.

"Sounds like he could use a real friend." Her father said, "Listen, there will be a great many people trying to catch his eye because he is famous. But real friends, the ones who knew him before they knew his story are what he needs the most."

"Don't lecture." Mrs. Granger told her husband. Then she turned to her daughter, "From what you said about the way he behaved I would venture to guess that he doesn't even know about his past yet. Just be there if he ever wants to talk about it, but try not to bring the subject up."

xxxXXXxxx

It was just after lunch and Minerva was pacing back and forth in her office waiting for Poppy to show up so they could take their findings to the Headmaster. She was matching her step to that of the music she was listening to, letting the angry words of the song feed her own anger. The tempo changed and the part she had been waiting for approached. She sang along "And when I dream, and when I dream, and when I dre..."

The ward on her door switched the modified wireless off as someone was about to enter the soundproofed room. Madam Pomfrey walked in looking as mad as she had been the day before, carrying a small stone tablet like a clipboard under her left arm. "Are you ready Minerva?"

"Of course Poppy. Is that the scan information you got yesterday?"

Pomfrey nodded and handed the tablet over, "I've compiled the data and checked it three times."

The smooth surface shifted and changed colors to display a human form with various labels to indicate where and when damage had occurred. It still made Minerva shutter in rage to think that all this had been done to a young boy by his own relatives.

"I told him 'These are the worst sort of muggles imaginable' but he didn't listen, and now look at what this poor boy has gone through. 'This is necessary for his protection.' he said, 'He must stay here to be safe' Ha, maybe safe from dark wizards but not from his own blood." Minerva ranted.

"Nor apparently from meddling light wizards either." said the enraged mediwitch. She turned from the tablet to Minerva "How are we going to get him out of there, and what shall we do with Albus."

Minerva scrunched up her face and contemplated the options. She had tried this ten years ago to no avail. The only new evidence she had was the medical report, which might not convince the Headmaster. That arrogant old coot would rather the boy was somewhere the other side couldn't get to him than a place where he could actually have a loving family. If only Dumbledore wasn't so worried about that prophecy.

Finally she looked at her colleague and closest friend and smiled, "I don't care what Albus says. Even if he doesn't consent to letting us take Harry away from those horrible people, we'll make sure that they can no longer hurt him."

Poppy grinned evilly, "So much for coming in peace."

xxxXXXxxx

Albus Dumbledore was completely shocked at what he was reading from the medical report. He knew that young Mr. Potter would be in for a harsh childhood with the Dursleys. He knew the muggles would not understand some of what happened around Harry. The old man even understood that they might try to raise the boy in such a way as to make him turn out normally. But he never imagined they would go this far.

Now he had a pair of very upset witches in his office wanting him to let them bring the child to live at the school. Not even considering his usual compunctions against letting students live in the castle, Harry was still safer in his relative's house. Or so he thought.

Looking up into his Deputy Headmistress's eyes he conceded his error, "I'm sorry Minerva. I never imagined this could happen. How inhuman does a person have to be to break a three year old's arm?"

"I hate to say I told you so, but I did say they were the worst sort of muggle I had ever seen. But you insisted on leaving him there, all because of some archaic blood wards." McGonagall snapped.

"The protection provided by proximity to his relatives would compliment that imparted by Lily's death." Dumbledore feebly tried to defend himself.

"But is it worth having him horribly abused and beaten by those relatives?" Poppy asked with the calm voice she used when she was really angry.

Hanging his head Albus said, "No, no it's not. What do you want to do about it?"

"I would prefer to have him living in the castle, but I'm sure you have an argument against that." Minerva said, setting up her real plan of visiting the Dursleys on a regular basis. She took a perverse pleasure in torturing those pitiful excuses for human beings.

"It is not the policy of this school to house students permanently throughout their tenure here. True," He held up his hand to stop the approaching arguments, "Exceptions have been made. But these were the most extreme circumstances. I believe that he can stay with the Dursleys as long as certain precautions are taken."

McGonagall smiled inwardly while scowling outwardly as Albus played into her hands. "Very well, but I will be taking charge of this myself. Poppy and I are already involved so we can visit them once a week until we are satisfied that he is no longer being abused." She stood and moved to leave. "I'll send them a letter tomorrow warning them of our impending visits. I think we're done here Poppy." The two women swept from the room, leaving Dumbledore sitting there alone.

Albus was disturbed by this situation. The violence indicated by the scans being directed toward a child rocked him to his core. He had seen similar brutality from Grindelwald, but one expects such thing from a dark lord. He summoned a piece of parchment and quill, writing a quick letter to his contact among the Unspeakables. He signed and sealed the message and handed it to Fawkes. The Phoenix took flight and immediately disappeared in a burst of flame.

xxxXXXxxx

Two days later Harry awoke to the sound of something tapping on his window. He slowly raised the pillow from his head and glanced toward the sound. The light was too much at first, giving him the impression of a sky full of swirling while clouds. As his eyes adjusted the shape of a snowy owl came into focus. He remembered his parents saying something about the animals being used as message carriers in the magical world.

Harry opened the window and the animal carefully flew in carrying an ornate brass cage. It set the cage down and perched atop it, holding out its leg that had a rolled piece of parchment attached to it. He took the letter and unrolled it, reading the untidy scrawl on the paper.

Dear Harry,

I decided to get ya an owl fer yer birthday.  
Hope ya like it.  
She needs a name.

Hagrid  
Keeper of Keys and Game at Hogwarts.

Harry looked at the beautiful white owl blinking at him with wide yellow eyes. He thought about an appropriate name for such a creature. Something that conveyed both her looks and purpose. He snapped his fingers and said, "I'll call you Scheherazade. Lovely conveyor of knowledge."

The creature blinked at the proclamation, wondering what the kid was on to give her such an auspicious name. She sighed and tucked her head under her wing, preparing to sleep for the rest of the day.

Assuming that Shez liked her name the young wizard stretched and glanced through his dresser. Deciding on a tee and jeans he checked the time and headed down to once again help with the preparations for breakfast.

When Vernon walked in he was reading the mail and grunting at every bill he opened. Finally he came to an envelope made from heavy parchment addressed to him and his wife in a very flowing, handwritten script. He broke the wax seal and extracted a single folded page written in the same hand. He visibly paled with each line:

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

After our visit the other night we contacted certain authorities and received permission to preform regular visits to your home to ensure the well being of one Harry Potter. We will be arriving today to check up on him and make sure you know the procedures. We expect to arrive around ten in the morning. Please be prepared.

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Poppy Pomfrey  
Chief MediWitch  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Vernon handed the letter to Petunia and rounded on Harry, "What is the meaning of this boy?"

The thin boy sipped his orange juice and answered, "What does the letter say?"

The long necked woman shrieked, "Why would they have to come here? And just for you?"

"They say that two of your kind of freaks are going to be arriving within the hour to 'check on you' and say they intend to show up whenever they want 'to check on you.'" The older man screamed. "Who do you think you are to tell them lies about how we treated you boy?"

Harry thought that the overweight man should avoid letting his blood pressure get high enough to change the color of his face. "It probably has something to do with that time you broke my arm. And then left me in the cupboard for three days."

"We never did any such thing." Both Dursley's yelled.

"Oh, I know." Harry said. "But that's what I told them, and the evidence backs me up."

Vernon spoke in a voice that was little more than a whisper, "Why?"

"Because I don't like you. You may have never mistreated me physically. But the things you said in front of me while you thought I couldn't hear were just wrong. Such as the cred you got from taking in your brain dead nephew. Or maybe the way you kept lying about my parents, trying to boost your status even further."

"Your good for nothing parents had to go and get themselves blown up and land us with you." Vernon screamed.

Harry looked at him and simply said, "Shut up."

Vernon found himself unable to speak, his lips flapping uselessly. He made a swing at the teenager, who held up his hand. The large man froze in place, his eyes swiveling madly.

"Now, my _dear_ Aunt. Would you mind telling your husband the danger of trying to strike a wizard. And while you're at it tell us the truth about your sister and her husband." Harry's voice seemed to mesmerize her.

"Vernon, you may want to refrain from trying to hit your nephew. It was, after all, a wizard who killed Lily and James." Her voice was flat, as though she was in a trance. "Lily was a first generation witch, no others being found in our family within recorded history. She received her letter and went off to Hogwarts where she met James Potter. I was jellous of how much attention our parents seemed to lavish on her."

"It was after her second year that I finaly came to the realization she was abnormal because of her abilities. After her seventh year she left home and got married. She told me about a war that was going on, though I didn't believe her because it never came out in the papers. After I got married we agreed to forget about her and live a normal life devoid of magic."

"When you showed up on our door step there was a note from a man named Dumbledore. It detailed what really happened to your parents and asked that we take you in. Vernon and I discussed it and decided to do our best to drive the magic out of you. But it became quickly apparent something was wrong when you seemed almost completely unresponsive."

"The only time you seemed to have any life in you at all was when you were eating and we never did figure out how you learned to use the bathroom."

Harry smiled, "Did you keep the letter?"

Petunia nodded. Harry closed his eyes for a moment and an old piece of parchment came flying into the room, placing itself in his waiting hand. He unfolded it and read silently.

Petunia Dursley,

This is Harry James Potter, the son of your sister. Lily and James were killed earlier tonight by a dark wizard styling himself as Lord Voldimort. It is my hope that you will take him in and raise him well. This will ensure not only his safety, but yours as well. Choose carefully because if you take him in you will not be allowed to throw him out at any point in the future.

Albus Dumbledore  
Headmaster  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot  
Chief Mugwomp of the International Confederation of Wizards

Harry went through the letter twice before turning back to his relatives. "Thank you Aunt Petunia. I don't imagine that you're going to be too happy about this whole situation so I'll let you sleep it off. Don't worry, you'll be up in time to greet your guests. And don't forget that they believe you've been abusing me, so I wouldn't suggest bad mouthing me too much in front of them. They already don't like you."

He waved his hand and they both fell asleep.

The boy with the lightning bolt scar finished his breakfast in silence while he considered what he had just learned. For some reason Albus had disregarded his parent's wishes and placed him with the two people specifically disallowed by their wills. Something really didn't add up here.

Then he left for his bedroom, needing to speak to his parrents.

As Harry closed the door to his room he sensed the magical barrier seal behind him. He extracted one of the two leather bound journals he had brought back with him from the Dreamlands. Opening it to the first page he wrote:

Hey Mum and Dad.  
I got a Snowy Owl from that guy Hagrid you told me about and named her Scheherazade.

A few moments passed before a response came through:

Hey Harry.  
Your Mum and I are thrilled to hear about the gift. Hagrid was a good friend when we were at school. He became a better friend when we joined the Order of the Phoenix and started fighting against Tom Riddle.  
Have you heard from your Godfather Sirius?

Harry dipped his pen in the ink and wrote back:

No. He hasn't sent me anything, not even a letter. But appariently it was that Dumbleroe guy who arranged for me to live here.

The response came:

You might need to send him one instead. But it surprises me that he hasn't contacted you over the years. He was my best friend, best man at my wedding and always the most loyal man I could imagine.

That doesn't make any sense. Albus knew our wishes and should have known better.

Harry wrote:

I'll see what I can find out. Madam Pomfrey and Miss Mcgonagall are going to show up soon to talk to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon about abuse.

His father wrote:

Don't have too much fun blaming them for all those bones you broke learning to fly. And then the arm you broke learning to fight.

The Boy-Who-Lived wrote back:

I see nothing wrong with letting them take the fall for those.  
Been good talking to you. I'll write back after the meeting.  
Love You.

He closed the Traveling Journal and turned just in time to sense his uncle coming up the stairs.

On the landing the fat man stood there looking at a blank stretch of wall where a door should be. He could have sworn that he was coming up here for something to do with the boy, something he wanted to say. But for the life of him he couldn't remember. Vernon headed back down the stairs to find his wife waiting with a troubled expression on her face. "That was quick Vernon. Did you tell that little shit to straighten up or he would be out on the street?"

Mr. Dursley slapped his face as the knowledge returned. How could he forget something like that just going up the stairs. It was probably the Freaks fault that he could get distracted so easily. He turned and went back up the way he came. Upon reaching the top again he looked around for the door to the spare bedroom. Again he began wondering what he was doing up here. He knew that his wife expected him do something up here. Despite wracking his brain for the information it just wouldn't come back to him. He glanced down the hall and saw his bedroom door standing open. Walking over he realized he never finished an article in yesterday's paper. Grabbing the document he headed back for the living room.

At the bottom of the stairs his wife was still waiting for a report. The overweight executive brushed past her and into the living room.

Just as Petunia was about to ask about how it went a knock came at the door. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley went to the door and opened it carefully, as though it were going to explode. The two witches that had become the focus of much of their fear were standing there with friendly smiles on their faces. Minerva said, "Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. We are here to deliver the decree from the authorities. If we could come in, this should be relatively painless."

The muggles scurried out of the way to allow passage to their visitors. When they got to the stairs they found Harry waiting for them. "Hello Ladies." He said, "It's nice to see you again."

Madam Pomfrey smiled softly at the polite young man. "Hello Harry. How have you been these past few days?"

"Well enough. Got my own room upstairs. Apparently my uncle decided they need my cupboard for more storage." Harry said in a childishly happy voice.

The magical women glanced at each other with concerned looks on their faces. McGonagall looked back toward her future student and said, "Why don't you go back up to your room and leave us to talk to your relatives."

"Okay!" The boy said and raced back up stairs. He waited until the women headed to the living room before sneaking back down to listen. A few seconds later his cousin joined him, trying to elbow him out of the way. To his surprise his arm stopped cold against the smaller boy's side as though it had hit a brick wall. Dudley stifled a scream and quickly withdrew to a less painful position.

Inside the room Minerva was seated next to Poppy on the couch with the Dursleys in their usual chairs. She composed herself and said, "I realize that you have a negative opinion of people capable of doing magic, but that is no reason to abuse a child." Just as the two horrible muggles were about to speak McGonagall waved her wand, silencing and paralyzing them. "We have only heard one story of the acts of abuse you visited upon an innocent child. But the techniques at Madam Pomfrey's disposal has found evidence of more abuse. Based on this information I had petitioned for Harry's immediate removal from this house."

Poppy picked up the thread as Minerva cooled down, "The request was turned down. Instead we have been given permission by the most powerful wizard of our age to institute some monitoring measures that will insure his safety. If you ever abuse him again we will know." She made sure their full attention was devoted to her, "And you will be punished."

With that the two witches left, without lifting the restricting charms. As they reached the foyer the sounds of scampering feet on stairs could still be heard. Poppy smiled, "He does have his father's spirit for mischief."

Minerva nodded as the same smile crept across her face, "He does at that. But he also has his mother's sense of timing." They both left without any further comment.

At the top of the stairs Harry and Dudley listened as the door closed. Dudley whispered, "Listen Harry. What's happened to you rescently? You seem like a different person."

Harry chuckled, "It's a long story Dudley. Let's just say this is the real me, and I'm finally back. I know you never really did anything wrong to me, but your parents are another matter. They neglected me and just shut me in that cupboard. The rest of what those two found was an echo of where I've been all this time."

The overweight boy looked lost, "Huh?"

"Even longer story. Don't worry about it though. This is who I am, and who I'll be for the rest of time." Hary said. "And with any luck I'll be out of here before too much longer. But in the mean time, just don't get in my way. There are a lot of things I have to do, and anyone who tries to stop me will get hurt."

"But what's really going on here?" Dudley asked.

"If you want to know I'll tell you. It's not a pretty story though, so feel free to stop me at any moment." Harry threw his arm across half his cousine's shoulder and headed for his room.

Three hours later the Dursley's son walked out. He was pale and covered in a cold sweat. Harry had layed the universe bare for him, and it had almost been too much for the child. He made it too his bed before curling up and letting his eyes slip out of focus. At that moment Dudley Dursley's mind broke. This was not as bad as it could have been, seeing as he already had several flaws that had been instilled by his parents. Also he had a well trained telepath nearby to help him as he put it back together.

xxxXXXxxx

On September 1st Harry walked out of the Dursley's house and made his way to the end of the street. He was carrying his trunk in one hand and Scheherazade's cage in the other. As he reached a good wide stretch of road he set the empty cage down and threw out his wand arm in a sharp motion. With a loud bang a large, purple, triple-decker bus appeared before him.

The door opened to reveal a middle-aged man behind the wheel with a teenager coming down the steps to greet him. "Hey there, welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Joey and the guy at the controls is named Bruce. Headed to Hogwarts this year?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "My first year."

"You should have an interesting time this year. I hear that Harry Potter is supposed to be there this year."

Harry blinked at this comment, but held his tongue and just nodded. He hefted his things and made his way up the short flight of stairs. Finding a seat the young wizard stowed his things and secured himself as best he could. If what his parent told him about this thing was true...

The bus lurched into motion with another loud bang. They were moving at high speed down some road that Harry didn't recognize, but he cringed as they almost hit a pair of stopped cars. The bus seemed to slide smoothly through a space a mere six inches wide. With one last loud bang they appeared in front of King's Cross Station.

There were several families eager to get to the station and Harry hung back to avoid getting into the fray. As soon as the steps were clear he made his way down and out onto the street. Looking up he saw the high arching glass ceilings covering the dozen tracks. He looked around at the bustle of people all moving to get to their trains. Suddenly a familiar voice spoke from behind him, "Hello Harry. It's good to see you again."

The young wizard turned to see Hermione standing behind him with two adults he assumed were her parents. He bowed his head, saying "Pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Granger. It's good to see you too Hermione."

Alan Granger held out his hand, "We've heard so much about you young man. I do hope that you have a good year."

Harry smiled, "Thank you sir. I hope to."

Samantha smiled and hugged her daughter, "You two better get going."

Harry and Hermione went into the station and easily got through the barrier that hid the entrance to Platform 9 3/4. Looking at the large red locomotive of the Hogwarts Express Harry could remember all of the stories of school his parent's had told. Hoping to have some of those same kind of tales to tell them next summer he hefted his things and headed toward the train with his only friend in this world.

They climbed into one of the cars about halfway down the train, quickly finding a compartment. Shoving their trunks into the overhead compartments they each pulled out a book and settled in for the ride. Hermione was reading Hogwarts, A History while Harry was reading Basic Magical Theory.

Just as they were both getting comfortable the compartment door slid open and a small boy with a round, kind face was looking in, "Have you seen a toad?"

The bushy haired girl closed her book and set it aside while saying, "I'll help you look for it. What about you Harry?"

"Just a sec." He said and closed his eyes. After a second of him concentrating Hermione was about to say something when a dark green toad floated into the compartment and settled onto the couch next to him. "Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" The young boy shouted, as he ran over and picked up the wayward animal. "Thanks. He keeps getting away from me. My name is Neville. Neville Longbottom."

Hermione said, "I'm Hermione Granger and this is Harry."

"Harry Potter." Harry finished for her, "It's a pleasure to meet you Neville."

"Are you really?" Neville asked with his mouth open.

"Hope so," Harry said, "I'm wearing his underwear."

Neville snorted at the joke while Hermione wondered about crude boy humor. The boy with his toad slowly backed out of the compartment, saying "Well, thanks again for helping he find Trevor."

Harry went back to his reading, saying "That could get really old."

"How did you do that Harry?" Hermione asked as she sat back down.

"Just a little trick I picked up when I was a kid." He said. "That whole hero worship thing is not something I need."

"It's to be expected. The magical world has been telling stories about you for the last ten years."

"I read the same book. It's just gonna get really old, really fast."

Hermione had no idea how to respond to this so as the silence stretched into uncomfortableness, she started reading again. After a few minutes the train started rolling, carrying the students off to the adventure known as Hogwarts. Once they got up to speed, the kids on the Express started moving around. Looking for their friends, study mates, and love interests, the ancient dance of rearranging the occupancy started.

Within a quarter hour a knock came at the door. "Enter." Hermione called. The door slid open to reveal a boy with long blond hair and a sour expression on his face.

"Can we help you?" The bushy haired girl asked.

"I'm looking for Harry Potter. A boy up at the front said he was here."

"And you would be?" Harry asked, not lowering his book.

"The names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." The smug boy said with a bit of a pose.

"Deflate yourself and take a seat." Harry said, "You found me."

Draco humphed and settled himself down next to the boy he had been hearing about for as long as he could remember. "So what house do you think you'll be in?'

"What does it matter?" Hermione asked. "Aren't they all pretty much the same?"

"Pretty much the same? You couldn't be more wrong." Draco set himself for a good oration. "Slytherin is obviously the best. Then there's Ravenclaw, followed by Gryffindor. And at the bottom is Hufflepuff."

"I take it your family all went to Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"All those worth mingling with. The rest have a bad habit of being too boring."

"Well, I don't see anything wrong with Ravenclaw." Hermione said.

"Only if you want to spend all your time studying." Draco Retorted.

"Come on Draco, I'm sure they still have some fun. What use is knowledge without applying it." Harry said.

"Oh yeah," Draco responded intelligently, "Like what?"

"Like this." Harry said. He waved his hands for show while extending his aura toward the others. Suddenly young Mr. Malfoy started giggling uncontrollably, soon falling out of his seat to languish on the floor. Hermione heard Harry's voice in her head, "Funny isn't he, when he thrashes about like that?"

"How are you doing that?" The girl asked again.

"Something I studied a few years ago under Mage Diggers." Harry answered grinning.

"I can't believe you've studied under a Mage, there supposed to be really rare, how did you ever get the chance to do that?"

Harry answered now laughing softly, "It was something my parents set up."

Harry was then interrupted by a voice from the door, "Why is Malfoy laughing on the floor of your compartment?"

They turned to see a red headed boy standing in the door looking put out.

"They told me that Harry Potter was in this compartment, but there is no way he would be laughing along with a Malfoy." The red head continued irately.

"I am in this compartment, but what's wrong with being here with Malfoy?" Harry responded.

Draco managed to stop laughing, "Red hair, second hand robes and a big mouth, you must be a Weasley." He sneered.

The new compartment member blushed at the description and snapped, "Shut it, Malfoy."

As the two other boys descended into a juvenile shouting match Harry closed his eyes, appearing to sigh at their antics. Hermione heard him in her head again, "What do you say we leave these two to kill each other and we can go see how Neville's doing?"

She nodded and they collected their things to go without Malfoy or Weasley even noticing.

"What was their problem?" Hermione asked.

"Probably UST. That's what my dad said in his journal." Harry answered.

"What's UST?" The bushy haired girl inquired, a little worried about the answer.

"Unresolved Sexual Tension. That's the way he described it whenever he and my mum argued."

Hermione shuddered at the thought just as an older red haired boy passed them in the hallway, speeding toward the load voices.

He opened the compartment door to find his youngest brother pointing his wand at another first year's head. He yelled, "Ronald Weasley! What do you think you are doing?"

"Stay out of this Percy. Malfoy here is gonna get it." Ron screamed back.

Percy grabbed his brother by the ear and started dragging him out, yelling, "You just wait until our mother hears about this Ronald."

xxxXXXxxx

After enjoying an afternoon of friendly conversation, the three teens slipped their robes on, expecting to reach their destination soon. Neville asked, a little nervous, "So what house do you think you'll be in?"

"I really think I could be happy in Ravenclaw but I guess Gryffindore could be okay or maybe even Hufflepuff, but Slytherin just seems like a bad huse." Hermione said in her customary breathless manner.

"I hear that everyone who goes to Slytherin becomes a dark wizard." Neville said.

"Not all of them." Harry said. "But quite a few of them, including Tom Riddle."

"Who's Tom Riddle?" The bushy haired girl asked.

"He later came to be known as Voldemort." Harry said casually.

Neville cringed and whispered, "Don't say his name."

"Neville, calm down. It's just a name." The nerdy girl said in a placating tone.

"Trust me, he won't just appear when someone says his name. He doesn't have that kind of strength at the moment." Harry said.

"I thought he was dead, that's why he hasn't shown up." Hermione said.

"Tom's not dead. I saw him once." Harry said.

"You did?" Both of his friends asked.

"Yeah. It was about three years ago, while I was studying with the Diggers. He was trying to test some of his new powers, but the lack of a physical body made it easy for Dr. Diggers to banish him." Harry reminisced.

The round faced boy had a look of awe, "That Dr. Diggers sounds like he's powerful."

"He is. And between him and his wife, I learned a lot. But we only had about two years together. Then I went to study with my Aunt and her sisters, plus those bloody ravens." Harry scrunched his face at the memory of his least favorite teacher. After six months with that creature, he doubted any of the professors at Hogwarts would be able compare.

"You were taught by ravens?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, two of them. Little scavengers wouldn't let me eat breakfast until I answered all their questions about the previous day's lesson. Luckily one insisted on waking me at dawn, so the food would be ready about the time we finished."

Both of the other students were looking shocked by Harry's story. He noticed their expression, "Don't get me wrong. I still had fun, especially when I got to spar every afternoon. My Aunt's youngest sister was perfect for that, as we were about the same height."

Hermione was about to say something when the train whistle sounded and they could feel it slowing. Harry jumped up, "I think we better get ready, sounds like we're about to get there."

Harry opened his trunk and extracted his dagger, strapping it around his chest under his robes. When he turned around he could see his two friends looking a little nervous, "Master Julia told me 'When going into an unknown situation, there is no such thing as too prepared.'" He slid his wand up his sleeve, into a pocket he had added. With that he led them out into the hall, making his way toward the exit.

He slid the door back as the train came to a stop and people began pouring out of the compartments. Stepping onto the platform they noticed a sign declaring this as 'Hogsmead Station'. Hermione was about to comment on the history of the village when a booming voice called over the crowd of students, "Firs' Years. Firs' Years, o'er here."

The youngest students in the mass slowly made their way toward the bellowed summons and Harry stopped ten feet away, thinking to himself, 'A bloody half giant. Haven't seen one of those since that one day...'

His thoughts were interrupted by the huge man leaning down at him and saying, "Why 'ello there 'Arry. Haven' seen you since you were a baby."

"Um... Hello." The scarred boy replied.

"Names Hagrid. Hope you got me present?" the shaggy man asked.

"Yeah. I named her Scheherazade. Thank You." Harry answered.

Hagrid smiled and straightened up before bellowing again, "Firs' Years, o'er here." When a sizable group had separated from the returning students he counted to make sure. Then he said, "Follow me, and stay close." He led them down a path, through a thick stand of trees and out into the moonlight on the edge of a large lake. On the shore were several small row boats, each big enough for four students.

The half-giant told them to get in and climbed into one of his own. As they finished piling in he pulled out a pink umbrella, tapped his boat and said, "Forward."

The boats launched smoothly and formed up behind Hagrid's to glide silently across the glassy surface of the lake. The castle on the hill grew ever larger as they approached. Several people were whispering about their perspective houses, hoping that they would get into the same house as their friends. As they approached the cliff upon which the school sat their view was obstructed and they noticed a soft light coming from an opening in the rock wall.

The flotilla made its way into the opening and proceeded a short way until it reached a rocky beach. The boats wedged themselves securely into the small stones and Hagrid said, "Come on, this way. Keep up."

The procession made its way up a stone stair to the lawn right before the school, giving the new students a full view of the magnificent structure. Massive stones and high arches causing then to crane their necks attempting to take it all in. The huge double doors of the entrance shook as Hagrid knocked three times with his huge fists.

The doors opened to reveal the stern features of Minerva McGonagall. The enormous man said, "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here" She said. Then the Professor turned and led them into the hall. She opened a door into an anti-chamber and waved all the students inside.

Harry was fidgeting, feeling like he was standing to close to a fire. He was experiencing an unpleasant burning and tingling sensation all over his skin. He shifted his sight and was assaulted with what looked like a fiery wind blowing over him. He pumped up his aura and shifted it to shield against all the ambient magical energy trying to flow into him. As the force filtered through his aura and lessened he relaxed and canceled his mage sense.

Just as he was finished the teacher was ready to speak, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly."

Harry could feel his stomach trying to growl from the mention of food. He let the rest of the well practiced speech wash over him while trying to force his guts to stop churning. The young wizard didn't even notice the teacher leave, and only noticed her return when she said, "Now form a line and follow me."

xxxXXXxxx

A/N: For those who think we are making a Mary-sue, don't worry all will be explained later. Also the updates will hopefully be steady, but they won't be fast, just so you know.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: We do not own the Harry Potter series. It is the property of J. K. Rowling. This is meant for entertainment purposes only.

Harry Potter and the Winter Court Chapter 3

As the first years were led into the Great Hall every voice quieted. Every eye in the place was sweeping them, searching for one famous person. Harry ignored all of the stares, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the student in front of him. They were led to the front of the room, right before the head table. McGonagall lined them all up, facing the teachers in a single file.

The Deputy Headmistress walked over to the side and returned with a four legged stool with a worn and patched old hat sitting atop it. She set the stool and hat before the students and stepped back. Several of the first years were looking around, wondering if they were supposed to do something with the hat. Then a seam along the base of the hat opened into a mouth and the magical artifact started singing.

Harry had heard stories about the songs during his parent's years at Hogwarts. This version seemed to be pretty much middle of the road, describing the origin of the Sorting Hat and the characteristics of the four houses. Harry was thinking on what house he was likely to be sorted into when Minerva McGonagall stepped forward, unrolling a piece of parchment, and said, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She paused a heartbeat before calling the first student, "Abbott, Hannah." Who went to Hufflepuff.

"Bones, Susan." Hufflepuff.

"Boot, Terry." Ravenclaw

The announcement of each student's house was followed by loud applause from that house's table as the new student went to join it. Harry paid only minimal attention to the proceedings until he heard the teacher say, "Granger, Hermione"

The bushy haired girl ran to the stool and pulled the hat down over her head. The hat quickly called out "Ravenclaw!"

Harry clapped along with the Ravenclaw table, happy for his friend. The list progressed, dwindling the number of students waiting to be sorted. Neville went to Gryffindor, and Harry once again clapped for his friend, giving him a thumbs up as he passed. Draco Malfoy "Hufflepuff", shouted the hat, silencing the entire hall.

"What!" yelled Draco, "I have to be in Slytherin, my entire family has been. I demand to be placed in Slytherin like my father."

To which the Sorting Hat replied, "Mr. Malfoy, your loyalty to your father and family are precisely why I put you in Hufflepuff, wanting to be in your father's house so badly only makes my choice even more appropriate."

Everyone in the hall watched as Draco Malfoy was led, crying, to the stunned Hufflepuff table. After a moment of shock Professor McGonagall spoke, "Well let's continue with the sorting shall we?"

More students were sorted into various houses, causing the noise level in the hall to rise and fall with a regularity that could almost be called a rhythm.

Finally it came, "Potter, Harry." This caused a flurry of whispered discussion about his identity as he went to put the hat on. As soon as he put the piece of brown leather on it fell down over his eyes. He could still feel the hall looking at him, but sat patiently, waiting for whatever was supposed to happen.

Suddenly he felt a mental connection form and heard, "Interesting. Very Interesting. Haven't seen a mind like this in a long time. Not since... well that's not important. Where do you think you should go?"

Harry was used to telepathy, and thought back, "Don't really care. Just so long as we get this over with and hopefully get some of them to stop staring at me like I'm some sort of prize to be won."

The hat chuckled, "I can understand that. You wouldn't believe how many first years look at me with a certain amount of fear when I start singing. They think I'll eat their brain when they put me on."

"Considering you're probably the only talking hat any of them have ever seen, that's not too surprising." Harry responded.

"True enough. I have enjoyed the chat, but if I don't get back to my job soon they'll think I've fallen asleep again. So without further ado..." The hat yelled out, "Ravenclaw!"

The indicated house table exploded with applause, nearly causing the heavy stone structure to shake from the reverberations.

Harry joined his house, taking the seat next to Hermione, and waited for the ceremony to finish. There were only four more students left, two before the redhead he had met on the train, and one after.

When Ron Weasley was called he went to the stool and repeated the process of all those before him. After a moments consideration the hat called, "Slytherin!" This received a smattering of applause from the house table, as well as some cat calls. The most surprising part was when several red haired boys at the Gryffindor table stood up and shouted, "That can't be. He belongs with us, in this house."

Minerva looked at the outraged siblings and said, "I'm sorry boys, but heredity is not a controlling factor in this process. Just because all the previous members of your family, in living memory, have been Gryffindor does not mean that your brother is going to be there as well."

Ron was looking a little disappointed and very embarrassed about the situation as he slunk off to join his house. With the next child out of the way McGonagall rolled up her list and exited the hall with the stool and hat.

The old man who Harry assumed was Albus Dumbledor stood, smiling with his hands raised calling for silence. When the students finally quieted he said, "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment Tweak! Thank you!"

As everyone clapped Harry finally realized what his parents had meant about the old guy being a little touched in the head. His attention was quickly pulled toward the tables, which had filled with all sorts of food. He did his best to curb his intense hunger and managed to eat with as much decorum as he saw the student's using. As he finished his third plate of food the green eyed boy noticed exactly how much he had been packing away, as well as the stares he was getting from his best friend. He took a swig of juice to clear his mouth and answered, "My Aunt didn't exactly feed me well, and I am a growing boy."

"I thought you liked your aunt?" Hermione asked.

"My blood aunt I meant, that's where my body was." At the continued look of confusion he added, "I'll explain later."

The bushy haired girl didn't like having to wait for understanding, but figured he had a good reason for not speaking before the entire student body. She turned back to her meal just as the dinner vanished and was replaced with innumerable desserts. Once again the students dug in, not wanting to miss out on all the delicious items offered for the meal.

As the last bits of the sweets also disappeared the Headmaster once again stood, "Ahem-just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you"

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And some of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

"Quidditich trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

He allowed a moment for this to sink in before saying, "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Dumbledore flicked his wand, causing a long gold ribbon to flow out of the tip and form into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

The entire student body sung at different paces, leading to the words quickly becoming confused and garbled in the excellent acoustics of the hall. As the last two students finished singing the Headmaster commented, "Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

An older girl in her fifth year with long curly hair called out, "First year Ravenclaws over here." When the students had gathered around she continued, "My name is Penelope Clearwater, one of the two Ravenclaw Prefects this year. I'd just like to say what a pleasure it is to have you all in our house and I hope you have a good year. Now if you'll just follow me, it looks like most of the older students have cleared out and we can get up to Ravenclaw tower with ease."

She led them into the Entrance Hall and up the main staircase. From there they made their way through several corridors and up several flights of stairs before reaching a tower entrance on the fifth floor. Going up the tower was a tight spiral of stone steps that ended in a platform with a smooth wood door. The door had neither knob or keyhole, instead sporting a gold eagle knocker in the middle. As they approached the eagle animated and turned to face them. "What is one of the ingredients of a common Memory Potion?"

Penelope answered, "Jobberknoll Feathers"

The door replied, "Very good." And swung open.

The prefect led them into a large circular room with blue hangings trimmed in bronze. There were several plush overstuffed armchairs scattered around the room along with a few tables. Before the crackling fire was a midnight blue carpet with gold stars dotted throughout. The ceiling was high domed stone painted to resemble the night sky. Along the walls were several bookcases and windows showing the surrounding mountains. Opposite the entrance was a small dais with a life-size white-marble statue of the house's founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, wearing a jeweled gold band around its head. Next to this was a door leading to the dorms.

Penelope turned to the students and said, "This is the Common Room, and through that door is where you'll sleep. All your things have been taken to your rooms, so I would suggest you get some sleep. You'll get your schedules at breakfast and start your classes just after. Good night." The older student turned and walked toward the dorms.

Most of the students started off for their beds as the food started making them drowsy. Harry waved his friend over to a pair of chairs in the corner, using a touch of aura magic to insure their privacy. When they were settled he said, "I know what I say about my past doesn't always make sense, but that's because I didn't grow up exclusively in my body."

"How could you not have been in your body when you were growing up?" Hermione asked, a little confused but willing to give her only friend the benefit of the doubt.

"Let me go back a little more and lay the ground work for this story. What do you know about the Dreamlands?"

Hermione gave herself a moment to remember anything, then said, "I haven't ever heard of that particular term, but there is an old saying about sleeping and going to the land of dreams."

"Not quiet the same thing, but some people do wonder there when they sleep. The Dreamlands I'm talking about are other realities that exist close to our own. Most of the time you can't get to them, but there are some methods. Ten years ago a very strong willed man and woman, husband and wife, stood up to a thing that used to be human. The thing had come to kill their son, because of a prophecy he had heard only a fragment of. The child was only a year old, hardly a threat to anyone, but this crazy man still wanted him dead. His father told his mother to take the baby and run, that he would stand and fight to buy them time. He died without casting a single spell."

"The mother went to grab her son, and managed to get there and lock the door before she heard her husband die. She was trying to figure out how to safely get down to the ground with a baby when the door opened, showing the most evil creature she had ever seen. She flung herself at him, begging him to spare her child. He murdered her just as nonchalantly."

By this time Hermione was crying, suspecting she knew where this was going. Harry firmly forced his face into a determined mask while his guts churned, "Tom Riddle had long since ceased being human. He could no longer die, either from old age or combat. He felt only an uncontrollable urge for power, at any cost. Now he intended to create another piece to insure that survival. He had prepared himself for the act he was about to create. But he had never put any time into researching the history of Lily Evans Potter. He knew that James Potter was the latest descendant of a long line of wizards, which were spawned through the mating of humans and the ancient elves. But not every magic user was born from such means. About the same time in history there were also crossings with humans and fey. The first generation of these children were also magical, but they did not breed true with non-magical humans, instead passing their traits along as recessives. When enough of these traits would come back together you would have what is known as a muggleborn."

"And so it happened that the son of elves and the daughter of fey came together. But this was not the only thing that protected me. Because of the ritual he was prepared to perform, Riddle had begun separating a part of his soul, usually through murder and torture of others. This caused his powers to be weakened, and allowed the uncommonness of my heritage to instinctively reflect the curse back at him. He did not have the power to stop it, so it killed him. But it had other effects."

"It is legend that a strong willed magic user who dies a violent death can have their soul sent to the Dreamlands. This is where my parents awoke after their murder. I showed up a little after, causing a little confusion until someone came to meet them and explain things. I had the ability to cross between the worlds, at least in part. This is how I was able to learn magics that even Merlin considered myth, while at the same time being neglected by my blood relatives. They only saw me as a idiot child that had most likely been permanently damaged by the same thing that had killed my parents."

Hermione was having a hard time deciding if Harry was telling the truth. He was saying things that her upbringing said were impossible, but so was magic, in her opinion, until she got her letter. The real clincher was that he had used wandless magic, something that shouldn't be possible until sixth or seventh year, if even then. He was obviously not that old, so he had to have learned it somewhere else. Wiping the tears from her face, she said, "I believe you. After everything I've seen it just makes sense, sorta. But I thought you said Tom Riddle was alive."

Harry laughed a little at her attention for detail, "He is. I saw him in the Dreamlands once, just like I said. Since he can't actually die here in the real world, not having a body has kinda split him between the two. He's somewhere out there, but part of him is also being trained, so when he can return, he can pull some even more messed up stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Hermione asked.

"He was immediately recruited when he got to the other side, by something who makes him look tame. When he manages to get back, he will try to summon his master from the pole of order into this world, giving that foul creature control over the whole of the multiverse. Or at least that's what they tell me." Harry said, trying to lighten the mood at the end.

"The pole of order? Some dark creature? I'm not getting any of that." The bushy haired girl responded.

"Unfortunately, a full explanation of the structure of the cosmos is something for another time. Suffice to say that I'm here to learn what I can, and practice what I already know, so that when old Moldyshorts comes back, I can stop him." The bespectacled boy said, yawning slightly.

"Moldyshorts?" Hermione asked through her own yawn.

"Something my Dad called him quiet often. I thought it was funny once upon a time." He rose from his chair and offered her his hand. She took it and they walked off toward the dorms.

xxxXXXxxx

The next morning Harry woke early out of habit, dressed and started his usual routine. He jogged out of the tower and down the stairs, heading for the Entrance Hall. Once there he proceeded outside and down the lawns toward the lake. He could feel his other wordly physique returning, with the protein heavy meal of last night and the constant influx of magical energy he knew it was just a matter of time. In the mean time it would be good to get this body used to this kind of workout.

Harry circled the entire lake, at points being able to sense some of the magical creatures in the forest watching him as he passed. He relaxed his aura slightly while he was away from the castle and all the ambient magic it possessed. While not deadly for him to soak up so much magic all at once, it did have a chance of causing him to overload, increasing his chance of casting random spells. He had some experience with this, when Dr. Diggers had taken him to a cave with even more native energy than the school. Oddly enough this was when the boy had learned to block such energy, because at that time it would have killed him.

Reaching the far side of the lake, with the castle so far away he could not make out the windows any longer, the bespectacled boy decided to use the one ability his parents had told him to keep secret for as long as possible. He focused, willing his magic into his body. He bent forward as his bones changes shape, size, and number, running on all fours. The hair over his entire body lengthen and thickened while his entire body expanded. If anyone were there to watch, they would now see a Dire Tiger, sixteen feet high, forty-five feet long, running at nearly thirty miles an hour around the far end of the lake.

At this pace the extremely underage animagus made it around the safe part of the lake in under a minute, resuming his human form for the rest of the trip. Smiling at the ease with which he had transformed he settled in for the remaining run.

xxxXXXxxx

Hermione had been awake for a while, sitting in her bed as the sun rose. She had learned so much about her only real friend the night before, so much that changed the way she felt about him. She now had to decide what to do about it. Because of the way her parents raised her she was always very mature for her age, expected to be more responsible than most other children.

The bushy haired girl knew that it had required a great deal of trust for Harry to tell her so much about his past. She could tell somehow that he was telling the truth about the night his parents were killed and how they had raised him in a parallel reality. She would be mad to betray the trust of such a friend, especially her only friend.

She got out of bed and retrieved her uniform from her trunk, heading down to the baths to get ready for the day. On the way back up to her dorm she passed Harry in the hall that connected the dorms to the Common Room, "Hey. Sleep well?" He asked.

"Pretty well." She lied, "Hey, Harry. I just wanted to say... Thanks. Thanks for trusting me with your secret." She blushed for a moment before continuing, "So, did you already go down to breakfast?"

The young wizard wiped his brow with the towel he had wrapped around his neck. "Nah. Just a little run around the lake. Gotta get this body into the same shape I'm used to. Gonna go get my uniform and grab a bath before I eat."

She smiled, "I'll wait for you. Then we can go down together." She squealed. It took a moment for her to realize what she had said, at which point she blushed and ran off toward her dorm.

Harry smiled and went to get his bathing supplies.

When he was bathed and dressed he stood before the mirror, concentrating on magically forming his hair into just the right shape to look like his father's. He could make it lay flat if he wanted to, but had made a deal with his Dad a few years ago to keep it this way, just to annoy his Mom. She really hated that he had "inherited" that particular trait from James.

As he looked into the reflective surface something jumped out at him. His eyes had changed. Where before the irises had been a bright vibrant green, now there was a distinct ring of fiery red on the inside.

Harry finished quickly and as he was walking back to the dorm began a magical inventory of his body. By the time he reached the Common Room he had found that all the extra magical energy from Hogwarts had caused one of his Fey traits to activate, at least partially. This resultant change reminded him of his mother's eyes and their triple banded design. It was a definite possibility that he would continue to develop these features the longer he spent at the school.

Meeting Hermione they started down to breakfast, discussing things in hushed tones.

xxxXXXxxx

Their first class was History of Magic with the only ghost teacher at the school. Professor Binns was said to have died before the staff room fire, and not noticed. He had just went to class the next day and started teaching in his usual fashion. For about a week no one else had noticed either, as he usually had some of the castle's house elves bring him some food. Then one day a coworker came in to consult him on some point of history, finding his entire class in a state of drone induced stupor. As this was nothing new she wrote it off as his usual teaching style. Then she got to the podium and started screaming at the pearly-white translucence of the familiar man.

Unfortunately no one had bothered telling him he was dead since and he had continued working, without changing his routine one wit. This is why almost every student in the First year Ravenclaw class was asleep within minutes. As Binns droned on Hermione was raptly hanging on his every word, writing furiously to get it all down. Harry on the other hand was flipping through his textbook as the teacher spoke, only writing something down when it was not covered by the text. He had experience with taking history lessons, and knew that the only way to keep up with a lecturing teacher was to only take notes when necessary.

After their first class on Monday there was a short break, during which the two students reviewed for their first Herbology class. This seemed to be the most non-magical class they had, dealing with learning how to care for and harvest magical plants. The professor, Madam Sprout, was very knowledgeable on the subject and more than willing to give pointers on dealing with the plants.

In the afternoon they had their first joint class, Charms with the Slytherins. This was the first time they ran into that red headed boy from the train. He immediately went over and introduced himself to the famous student, the one the obnoxious child had barged in on, on the train, "How ya doin' mate. I was gonna introduce myself on the train before that git Malfoy started talking. I'm Ron Weasley."

Harry pointedly ignored the boisterous fellow student while he finished the thought he was sharing with Hermione. When he was done he turned a cold eye on Ron and said, "That's twice you've interrupted one of my conversations, big mouth. Don't do it again."

The-Boy-Who-Lived turned away from the annoying prat and continued on to find some good desks. Undeterred by the mild tongue lashing Weasley followed the two Ravenclaws, taking the open seat next to the bushy haired girl. For a first class the two friends found it very good. Not only did the diminutive Professor Flitwick teach with a good bit of enthusiasm, he was very helpful with hints on their technique. All they studied were the basics of wand motions and energy channeling. With his previous knowledge of doing magic without a wand Harry could tell something was wrong about this.

The energy required to push a spell effect through the thin piece of wood, especially with the magical core causing interference, was around three times what he had to use if he used aura magic. He could see how it would be harder for someone who had adapted their casting to the crutch to do without it after twenty or so years. In addition to that, it was designed for only one target at a time, where he could incapacitate a whole room with nothing but a thought.

Harry still had to admit that it was an effective teaching aid for beginners. But the modern magical methods barely outgrew its use, and only the strongest and most confident user ever used magic without it. It was such a waste of energy, best for beefing up a person's magical core.

About half way through the first class it was obvious that the annoying redhead wasn't really paying attention. His form was sloppy, and this was just the basics. Also, his annunciation sucked. He was lisping on a full third of his syllables, and his stresses were all wrong. He could just imagine the kind of problems the suck-up idiot could cause, as Harry knew that the key to good wand magic was precision. As much as the witches and wizards wanted to claim otherwise, magic was just as much a science as physics and electronics. It followed a specific set of rules that allowed for only so much variation.

Luckily the class ended before the red haired boy could cause any explosions. This released them to prepare for dinner, dropping their books back in the tower. Then they went down to the Great Hall for the evening meal. While they were eating Hermione said, "This has been a nice day. I can't wait to see what our classes are like tomorrow."

"We've got a double Potions with the Hufflepuffs first thing in the morning." He groaned out.

"I hear that Hufflepuff house is supposed to be nice." She responded, a little confused by his tone.

"It's the Potions , not the ones accompanying us in class." Harry could see she still didn't understand. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, "My mom once tried to teach me potion making." He shuddered before continuing, "No matter what, I couldn't seem to brew what I was trying to. One time, I was making a simple boil curing balm. It ended up being the Drought of Living Death. Now since I know you've read the book, you know those two have almost nothing in common. Then the next time, same recipe, I got an Aging Potion. No matter how many times I tried it I always got something different."

"But why?" The bookworm asked, "It doesn't make any sense."

He nodded, "That's what they all said. Until we investigated the ingredients. If you remember, according to the prophecy, I am the avatar of chaos. One side effect of that is I always get the oddball reactions. Even within the same type in ingredient, you get some, usually about one in a hundred thousand, that give completely different results. I somehow get these ones every time."

"Oh no. This could be very bad. What if the potion explodes? Some of those ingredients react violently." She observed.

Harry nodded mournfully.

"Hopefully the professor is good at his job, and can help if it goes that way" He said, not knowing who the teacher for the most dangerous subject at the school was.

xxxXXXxxx

For those of you that have asked, yes that is feet. He is a Dire Tiger, and not even fully grown.

Thanks malko050987, we did forget.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: In response to the reviews, thanks by the way, yes Harry's size was in feet. He is freaking huge, though mostly full grown he will eventually get larger. Nothing says that a person's form has to be an active, still living species, and throw in magical species and you get a five meter tall cat.

Disclaimer: We own none of the various fictional works that are referenced in this fic. They are used here only for entertainment purposes and not for any profit.

Harry Potter and The Winter Court Chapter 4

The next morning, after his run, Harry met up with Hermione again. She smiled, "At it again?"

Rubbing some sweat from his forehead, he answered, "Every morning. Got to get this body into the same shape as the one I'm used to using. It will take a while, but the ambient magic field around here is helping accelerate that."

"So, are you still nervous about potions?"

"Not as much. So far I've heard nothing but bad things about the teacher." He answered.

"How is that a good thing?" She asked, a little confused.

"If something goes horribly wrong I can just blame it on him and his snarky teaching style." Harry was smiling.

"You know, that might just work. But only once or twice." She said thoughtfully.

"I only need it to work once. After that it should be easy enough to get thrown out of the class."

"But you won't get a grade for that class if you get thrown out." The concern in her voice was evident.

"What's the point of learning a subject that I can't do anyway. Even Mom admitted it's just a waste of time. Took her most of three years, but she finally realized that I just can't brew potions normally." He explained.

"You may be the only person that doesn't sound lazy when you say that." They both laughed at the irony of that comment. Harry made his way off to the dorms to get cleaned up.

xxxXXXxxx

Severus Snape was about to jump out of his skin. He was finally going to get his revenge on the son of his greatest enemy. Ever since Malfoy had come back and denounced the Potions Master as a loyal servant of Voldemort, cheerfully carrying out the most gruesome orders, it had placed him under suspicion. Even Dumbledore's defense had only undone a little of the damage. Now Malfoy's son would be at Hogwarts, and the little shit would suffer horribly throughout the year. And then there was Harry Potter. He was a special case. The Potions Master would make sure the torture inflicted that boy would be long and demoralizing. The child of James Potter would endure such horrors as had not been seen since the war. This was the last piece of the one person he had wanted dead the most, and now he could spend the next seven years enjoying the slow death of that part, before killing him at last.

But first was to meet the two objects of his revenge. The two boys would be under his tutelage for the next seven years. More then enough time for him to completely shatter their self-confidence. Then, at the most opportune moment, he would kill them and garner favor with Voldemort. If he could make it look like an accident then he could even keep the old coot's trust. This would let the Potions Master play both sides against the middle. No matter how the war turned out Snape would be close to the top on the other side.

And once the time was right he could avenge the death of Lily, killing that half-blood sham. It was a rather complicated and elegant solution to the problem, but he still had years to pull it off.

xxxXXXxxx

Harry and Hermione sat down in their first potions class. They had potions with the Hufflepuffs, leading to a rather large class. There was barely enough room for all the students, given that over half of the room was occupied by cauldrons and work tables.

The pale boy known as Draco Malfoy was also there. He seemed to still be depressed about being sorted into his current house. Harry couldn't see the problem, since the Puffers were supposed to be those who prized loyalty. But from what his father had said, he understood that most of the others viewed it as the overflow house which got those that didn't fit anywhere else.

Harry had been asking around for any information about the potions professor, hoping to find out if the teacher would accept that he was just chaotic when it came to potion making. Unfortunately he had learned that the man was named Severous Snape, someone he had heard about before. According to his parents this particular man had been something of a rival of James Potter's in their youth only to become a bitter individual later on in life, blaming everyone but himself for his lot. One thing that remained constant was how much Snape hated James, leading Harry to consider it unlikely that the Potions Professor would even listen. He grinned to himself and thought, 'more fun for me then.'

As Hermione was about to try to calm her friend down again, the door leading to the teacher's office flew open and a greasy haired man in a long flowing robe stalked in. Between the hooked nose, windless billowing cloak and surly disposition, the man looked like the stereotypical villain. Snape reached the front of the classroom and glared at the room full of students.

He took the roll with a surly tone that could curdle milk. When he reached "Draco Malfoy" his tone changed into something almost happy, giving everyone the immediate impression that the blond upstart would get special treatment. Then he continued, not getting very far before he reached "Harry Potter, oh yes our new celebrity." He finished calling names and swept his eyes over the class, causing some to shiver from the chilly darkness of the seemingly bottomless orbs.

Severous settled himself behind the front desk and started his obviously well rehearsed opening in that same surly tone. He explained that he had a low opinion of other forms of magic and considered potion making to be the highest form of magic. The teacher also made it quite clear that he considered most of his students below his notice.

When he finished his eyes narrowed on Harry and he spat out the works, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry let his lip curl, remembering his mother's attempts to teach him potion making, "That would be the Drought of Living Death, sir." He chopped out the honorific with just enough attitude to indicate his distaste for the man.

"That was an easy one Potter." Snape snarled, "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are different parts of the aconite plant, sir."

Feeling that this lad had perhaps studied a little Shape decided to throw his a curve ball, "What is the procedure for creating the Elixir of life?"

Harry knew that this was covered nowhere in the assigned text, but was glad that he had asked so many questions when his parents had reminisced about their lives in the waking world. He smiled widely before answering, "You take any water based liquid and bring it to a boil before removing it from the heat and adding a sorcerer's stone. You then let it steep for ten minutes, stirring every minute. After this the Elixir is ready to drink or can be cooled and stored for up to three years. After that long the effect mutates and it has the opposite effect, causing rapid aging, _sir._" Harry said this final sir so that it brought to mind the word cur instead.

Even Snape didn't know about that last part, causing him to pale as he wondered how this young shit could know about that. "Very good Potter." He spat, "But you will need more than little tidbits of knowledge in this class." The teacher turned to the rest of the class, "The instructions are on the board and the ingredient cabinet is open." He waved his wand twice as he spoke, "You are making a simple potion to cure boils."

The class went downhill from there, with Snape sweeping around the room critiquing the students, some rather harshly. When he made his way over to Malfoy's cauldron it was hissing and popping while emanating a dull gray mist. The greasy man smiled and hurried away from the explosion waiting to happen. He was not the only one that noticed as Harry quickly surrounded the cauldron with a magical shield. Just as Severus reached the other end of the room a loud boom was heard as the cauldron came apart and filled the shield with a dull lavender liquid that quickly turned black and ignited, burning away in moments.

Harry calmly continued his work as Hermione turned around in her seat to watch the fireworks. With the immediate danger over Harry released the shield just as Snape got close to the scene. The ensuing stench caused the teacher to retch right on the young girl that had been working with Malfoy. This went almost unnoticed as a wave of nausea spread through the rest of the class. Harry extended a wave of anti-nausea through the room, abating the effect quickly enough that it resulted in nothing happening on their side of the room.

Snape noticed the magical effect passing over him and snapped his head around to try to catch the culprit. At the very least the student that could cast that spell, especially non-vocally, would be at least ten years past what he should know. He saw quite a few students working diligently with even more watching the scene. The rest, those closest to him, were recovering from the vomiting spells they had suffered from.

Snape waved his wand, vanishing the bodily fluids. When the mess was cleaned up he summoned the other cauldron used by the pair and snapped, "Be sure to actually crush your snake fangs Malfoy. Five points from Hufflepuff."

The rest of the class was uneventful, ending with the bell. All the students, even Malfoy, managed to put a sample of their potion into a small vial and cork it. Once they were labeled with each student's name they set them on the professor's desk and filed out of the room.

When they were clear of the rest of the students Hermione pulled Harry aside and said, "I know we were supposed to be making boil curing potion, but I'm pretty sure that silvery liquid we bottled was not that." Harry nodded and she continued, "So, what was it?"

"Not entirely sure, but it might have been Quicksilver. I've never made that before." He answered, scratching his chin sagely. "At least it didn't blow like Malfoy's."

"It did look like mercury, but how did we create an element from those ingredients?"

Harry smiled, "This is magic, but Quicksilver is something very different. It moves very much like mercury, but causes very quick cellular degradation. Tip an arrow or bullet with that stuff and watch a person's flesh rot before your eyes." Harry said.

"That sounds pretty dangerous." She speculated.

"It is, but still useful if you know how to handle it." He said as he reached into his robe pocket and flashed a vial full of silvery liquid.

"Can't you get in trouble for having that?" The bushy haired girl gasped.

"Only if I get caught." Harry answered with a twinkle in his eyes.

xxxXXXxxx

That night Snape stormed into the Deputy Headmistress's office with a good head of steam. He put two vials of silvery liquid on her desk and demanded, "I want two of your students expelled immediately."

Unimpressed by his demands, Minerva calmly asked, "And why would that be Severus?"

"Somehow they managed to brew an extraordinarily controlled potion. And I want them out of this school before they brew something truly dangerous."

Picking up the small containers she recognized the names. "Do you honestly think two first years could brew a mastery level potion? And where did they get the ingredients? I was not aware that you kept such things in the castle, much less in the student's supply cabinet."

"I know for a fact that at least two of the ingredients for that potion are nowhere in this castle." He said defensively.

"That's my point Severus. There is no way these two could have brewed this potion while sitting in your class. But as these vials are marked with their names, and I don't think even you would stoop so low as to frame a student, then that means they did. It is a mystery, one of many surrounding young Mr. Potter." She said thoughtfully. "Keep me appraised of further developments, and try to relax."

"I can not give them a passing grade as they did not brew the proper potion." He sneered back.

"Do as you feel you must, but remember that we are here to teach the children, not break them."

xxxXXXxxx

A few weeks later the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years made their way down to the lawns for their first official flying lessons. Several of the students had been flying before, including both Harry and Draco. Draco had been bragging about his exceptional skill on a broom in his familie's back yard. Some of the stories, especially the ones involving a pair of Aurors and a chase through the countryside, were more than a little over the top.

Harry had also told Hermione some stories. His had a tendency of including a dragon and a broken bone though. All this really didn't do anything for the girl's confidence. Her real problem was that no matter how much she read true skill in flying could only be bought with experience, usually hard.

As Madam Hooch approached, holding her broom, she said, "Take your places next to your brooms."

The students milled about for a moment, choosing a place near their friends. This placed Harry on Hermione's right and Draco on her left. When they were all settled into two equal lines the teacher continued, "Now hold your hand over your and say 'UP.'"

All the student's followed the instruction, some with better results than others. Harry's and Draco's instantly flew into their hands. Hermione's rose a few inches of the ground, rolled over and flopped back. After a few attempts her's responded. The teacher walked around telling several students, "With force and confidence."

As the last few brooms were in hand she resumed her place and continued, "Now mount your broom like this." She matched actions to words. Madam Hooch walked around, correcting grips and positions. When she was finished and resumed her place at the end of the two lines the lesson continued, "Now, on my whistle, kick off, rise a few feet off the ground, then lean forward and come back down. One, Two, Three."

Madam Hooch blew one short blast on the whistle. All the student's jumped, coming to a hover a few feet above their previous location. Several of the student's came back down too fast, hitting their knees when they landed.

Hermione unfortunately did not come right back down. She was fidgeting and overcompensating so bad that her broom was rising higher and higher. Neither Harry nor Draco had settled back on the ground. Both boys sped to her side, Harry reaching around her and placing his hand under her arm to support her weight. Meanwhile Draco grabbed the front of her broom, steadying it and helping to bring her back down to the ground.

When they were all on solid footing Madam Hooch was waiting, "Thank you boys for assisting a classmate. Ten points for each of you." She looked ar Hermione, "Are you alright Miss Granger? You look a little green."

The bushy haired girl swallowed her stomach and answered, "I'm fine ma'am. But I don't think I like flying."

This earned her a round of understanding chortles from the rest of the class. The teacher smiled at her, "I have known many students who have started out with that same feeling. But with a little practice you'll get the hang of it."

As the teacher walked away Draco leaned in and said, "Just remember Granger, small motions. The broom won't buck so bad is don't jerk it as much."

After the class was over Harry caught up with the blond haired boy, "Draco, I'd like to thank you for helping out today."

"It was nothing Harry. My dad would have had my arse if I let a chav get hurt without doing something to help out." Draco walked away without another word.

Harry and Hermione stood there for a moment wondering what that had been all about.

xxxXXXxxx

"Draco!" Harry called out as he ran after blond, "What the hell was that about?"

"Language Harry. Those of the Houses should always be mindful of their language." Draco didn't even bother slowing down.

"I don't get you mate. First you save her life and give her some pointers on flying. Then you call her a chav. What's that all about?" The raven haired boy asked.

"It is the responsibility of the Ancient and Noble Houses to look out for the commoners, or so my father said since he got out of prison when I was younger." The cocky boy motioned for them to step into a unused classroom.

When they were settled he continued, "Me father said that while he was in prison, awaiting trial, a man visited him. He told Father many things that got him to thinking about his role in the war. After he made a deal with the government Father spent four years in a Ministry Prison. While he was there he says he thought about his life and his place in the world."

"When he came back to us he taught me what it meant to be member of an Ancient and Noble House. It falls to us to protect and guide the commoners, doesn't mean I have to like it. I prefer the company of my own kind, as you are."

"I don't like the way you think Draco, but you saved Hermione's life and I owe you for that. We may never be friends, but I will repay you for this." Harry said, shaking his head.

Draco smiled, "I'll remember that, and one day I may even come to collect."

xxxXXXxxx

The weeks passed quickly, with most of the classes covering the basics of their subject matter. Potions continued to have the occasional accidents, most of which resulted in minor injuries. Except in the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class. This class had its fair share of accidents, but none of them resulted in anything more than minor burns and gagging. The really spectacular explosions were always accompanied by a shield that quickly dissolved as soon as the threat had passed. Harry and Hermione still could not manage to brew the correct potion in even one class. After brewing Blood Restoring Potion, Veritaserum and one draught with properties similar to the Draught of Living Death, they finally managed to get a Boil Cure. The professor refused to correct the grade, despite the potion being perfect.

In transfiguration both Hermione and Harry were progressing well, with both having been able to change their matches into needles with three classes of them being given the assignment. Herbology was one of those subjects that seemed to be little more than extreme botany, but there had to be something said for the ability of a plants sap to cause massive and painful boils within seconds without instantly killing the victim.

As Halloween approached the Charms professor, Flitwick, announced that they would start working on a levitation charm. There were several that could be used for different purposes, but this one was the most basic.

Having this class with the Slytherins wasn't the only part Harry didn't like, given that it put them in the same room with that redhead prat that continued to set new lows in offensive behavior. Harry already hated the fact that he had decided to sit on his right side, causing his constant whispering about how they should be friends to make it that much harder to hear the teacher. On several occasions he had simple infiltrated the boys aura and put him to sleep. The only drawback to this practice was that the idiot then got in trouble in class and felt it was Harry's duty to keep him awake in the lessons.

The other thing Harry dislike about the class was that he had to rely on using a wand when he could already create any of the effects with simple aura magic, and on a much larger scale.

When Flitwick passed out feathers to each pair Harry felt almost insulted. His first task when learning to levitate simple objects had been a multi ton boulder that was their path through a mountain pass. He swished and flicked his wand, enunciating the incantation. The amount of energy he put into the spell caused the light weight feather to shoot up and stick into the rafters.

The little teacher was pleased, letting out a squee that would make any Japanese fan girl envious. He summoned the feather back and asked Hermione to try it.

Harry asked, "Professor, do I have to use this wand? They make it kinda hard to control the exact amount of power I'm using."

"What do you mean Mr. Potter?" Flitwick asked.

Harry stuck his wand behind his ear and pointed at the feather. With a small release of energy and a upward motion he said, "Up."

The feather stood on its tip like a quill, trembling slightly from the gasps of several students and the teacher. Harry smiled, "You see sir, when I'm using the wand I have to put so much energy in just to overcome the wand's interference. It makes it hard to judge what is sufficient. This is what I could have done with the level of power I just used to make the feather move with a wand."

He closed his eyes and was sure to carefully target the exact amount of power he had used with the wand. His eyes opened and he voice was magnified from the magical outpouring, "Up!"

Every feather in the room stood rigidly at attention before darting for the rafters. "You see sir? It just takes too much to do it that with the wand."

Flitwick was in between awe and terror. He couldn't believe this young child was using wandless magic with so much control and power. True, it was Harry Potter, but that just made it all the more interesting. Hiding his emotions the professor squeaked out, "That's quiet impressive, Mr. Potter. But it is the focus of this class to learn the proper use of a wand. I'm sure you can find a good balance so as not to overpower some of the future spells."

Harry sighed, "Yes, sir. I'll work on it."

The teacher was trying to think about when the next time he would see Albus would be. If it was a normal day than it wouldn't be until dinner, leaving far too many unanswered questions unasked for too long in the short man's opinion. He decided it was best to move on to the next pairing and let Harry get back to being bored.

Hermione got the spell on her first try as well, smiling proudly that she could at least match her best friend on that score. Ron was apparently doing his best to botch the spell horribly. He was moving his wand incorrectly and mispronouncing the incantation at several points. The redhead was obviously getting annoyed with his failure as he was making even grander mistakes with every attempt.

After the tenth time Hermione leaned across her best friend and said, "You need to be more subtle with your wand motions. And try slowing down your pronunciation." She then demonstrated the correct procedure for him.

Ron indignantly huffed, "I don't need help from you."

Harry caught his temper just before he stunned the little snot. He tapped Hermione on the shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Let the idiot be. I'll protect us if he screws up too bad."

After the class they were heading to lunch when Weasley said a little too loudly, "I can't stand a know it all. No wonder that freak is her only friend."

Hermione ran off in tears, remembering how the kids at her previous schools had picked on her about her brains. Harry turned on Ron and let out some of the anger he had been bottling up. The already chill air seemed to freeze solid around his intended victim as he reached toward him. The red haired loudmouth found himself unable to speak or resist as he was dragged the ten feet across the courtyard into the waiting hand. Despite being several inches shorter than Ron, Harry managed to intimidate him thoroughly with this simple action.

Once he had the front of the other boys robes in hand, the angered young wizard spoke in a dangerous whisper, making sure that only Weasley could hear, "If you ever hurt her feelings again, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life."

Just barely rising to the challenge, Ron managed to croak out, "What do you think you can do to me?"

In the same chilling whisper Harry answered, "Look down."

A moment later there was a streak of red heading back the way they had come. The pompous prick slammed into the old stone wall and fell to the ground, unconscious but no more than bruised. Harry walked away, placing his violent tendencies back in check and thanking his Dad for explaining that particular spell effect. When Mr. Weasley woke up, he would know better than to ask that question ever again, especially from someone who can hold you several inches off the ground.

oxoxoxoxo

The raven haired lad spent his entire lunch period looking for his friend, knowing that she need someone to talk to before that insensitive jerk's words had too much time to sink in. The last thing he wanted was for her to be bawling her eyes out somewhere.

Unfortunately he failed to find her at all, even going so far as to ask the other girls in their house to keep an eye out for her. Once he explained what had happened the girls agreed to help, finding it sweet, if a little odd, that such a young boy was trying to help a girl who was just a friend.

His afternoon class interrupted the young wizard's search, causing him to be jittery through the entire period. He wanted to keep looking, but knew that even Hermione would have scolded him for skipping a class. With that over he resumed roaming the castle for any sign of her. Harry ran into Mr. Filch, who had a devious smirk on his wizened face.

The old man spoke with a deliberate slowness to his voice, like he was enjoying hearing himself talk, "What do we have here? A student wandering around near the out of bounds corridor."

Harry brushed past him, "I'm trying to find my best friend before the feast tonight, sir. If you don't mind I still have a lot of castle to cover."

Filch wasn't quite sure how to take this. Most of the younger students were so scared of him that they could barely move, much less speak. Either this kid was so stupid he didn't know how much trouble he could be in, or he was so confident he thought he could handle it. Either way, Filch would keep an eye on this one. He could be trouble.

The raven haired boy honestly knew exactly where he was, and didn't expect to find Hermione in the forbidden section of the school. But he was being through. He suddenly remembered a skill his Aunt had taught him. It was dangerous, with the high level of ambient magic around here, as he had to drop all his shields and listen for the target's natural magic. Judging the risks against the sheer amount of time it could save him, he began drawing his aura back in.

Existing in the stronger than normal magical field, and allowing a small amount of it get through his barriers, he had begun the acclimation process. He no longer felt like he was going to burst into flame from the energy coursing through him. It was more like a strong static charge covering his entire body.

His head was flooded with a feeling of immense power coursing through the entire building, permeating every stone, piece of glass and chunk of wood. It was beautiful and awe inspiring. Filtering the signal of the school from his mind he was assaulted by hundreds of smaller signals. Every life form in the building was a distinct note in the discordant symphony of the place. The majesty of Hogwarts was almost enough to drive him to tears. As he started systematically filtering the rest of the school by species, gender and age he realized how long this could take.

Filch came around the corner to see the green eyed reincarnation of James Potter floating just off the ground, a soft song emanating from him. Whatever this little ingrate was doing it had to be against school rules. As the elderly groundskeeper inched closer the light dimmed and Harry settled to the ground. As the old man reached out to grab the student a flash of magical lightning shot out and connected with his chest, throwing him across the hall to land unceremoniously in a heap on the floor.

Just before loosing consciousness Filch came to the decision that interfering with this young man might not be the best idea.

oxoxoxoxo

Harry made his way to the girl's bathroom where he knew Hermione was hiding. Despite the school rules he had little compunction about entering the room, but decided it might look a little odd. He entered the unused classroom next to the bathroom and leaned against the wall.

Stretching his aura through the stones he found her, curled up and crying. He whispered in her mind, "Hermione, my friend."

The girl jumped, wondering who it could be. When she realized who it was she whispered aloud, "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you. Right after I educated that little shi..."

"Harry! You didn't hurt him did you?" The mental slap was obvious.

"No more than was necessary. Don't worry, he'll survive." Harry quickly changed the subject, "But what I'm worried about is you. How are you doing?"

She sniffled, "I guess. I just don't want people to think of you as a freak. I don't think you're a freak, just a powerful magic user."

"That's true, but you know how I've existed. The main thing is to realize that being a freak is not a bad thing. It's all in how you think about it."

"But the way he said it, it was so hurtful."

Harry grinned, "Here I was thinking he had insulted you. And you were worried about him insulting me. Listen Hermione, I've been through some of the worst abuses you could imagine. It'll take a lot more than that to get under my skin. Come on out and we can still get ready for the feast."

"I did feel bad about what he said about me at first, but then I thought what he said about you. Oh Harry, I'm sorry I just ran off like that."

"Don't sweat it. We all make mistakes sometimes."

"Let me get cleaned up a bit first and I'll meet you back in the common room, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Harry left and headed back to Ravenclaw tower. He bathed and dressed before returning to the common room and waiting. He was reading about advanced wand theory when a third-year boy asked him, "Hey Potter, are you coming before the food's all gone."

For some reason he hadn't noticed how much time had passed, along with half of the book. On his way down to the Great Hall one of the girls he had asked for help from earlier grabbed his arm, pulling him into an alcove. "Hey, I thought you would like to know, that red headed git from Slytherin went after Hermione again. He saw her as she was coming out of a bathroom and started picking on her about crying and being friends with you. I don't know what his problem is, but she ran back into the bathroom and locked the door."

Harry's rage, which he had long ago learned to keep under control, seethed into existence. His eyes glowed a bright gold briefly before he he said, "Thank you."

The girl watched the first-year boy walk deliberately away, feeling sorry for anyone he was pissed at.

oxoxoxoxo

Ron Weasley was sitting around laughing with some of his housemates as he retold the way he dressed down his fellow first-year. Most of the older students at the table were just remembering what they had heard about the little shit in the courtyard. They imagined that Potter would be continuing that lesson shortly, but had no idea how quickly class would begin.

Suddenly everything went silent. Looking over they saw the space previously occupied by the braggart empty. They didn't care enough to check on the young man, who had been pulled out of the and into the waiting hand of one Harry James Potter.

As soon as he had the red head's throat in hand he growled, "Just couldn't learn from a simple lesson, could you loud mouth?"

The Slytherin tried to gurgle out a terrified answer. Harry cut him off with a gentle squeeze, "Don't talk, dumb ass. Save your voice for apologizing to her. That's where we're going now."

Ron realized that he was being held off the floor by the shorter boy, who started walking up the stares with surprisingly little effort.

oxoxoxoxo

Professor Quirrell was hiding just off of the Entry Hall watching the subtle display of massive power taking place before him. Some how Potter was using a Silent Wandless Summoning Spell. Not only was that spell taught much later, but for most wizards it was impossible to do so silently or wandlessly. To do all three was unbelievable for a young child.

These thoughts were a shared process for the possessed professor, who was sharing his existence with another. As the two boys departed the teacher schooled his face into a terrorized expression and started running toward the Great hall.

oxoxoxoxo

Sorry for the delay, bad case or writer's block.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: You're reading fan-fic. Enough Said.

A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Several errors and inconsistencies were pointed out by a rather rude Heinleinian critic. Despite his lack of tack we decided we were early enough in the story to go back and fix the problems. At the same time we added a few things we thought about that needed to be there. This has caused us to make many changes to the first four chapters, though the prologue stays the same.

Harry Potter and The Winter Court Chapter 5

Harry took his time getting to the bathroom where Hermione was hiding. During the walk he was very careful to keep his grip loose so Ron would not pass out. He wanted a few minutes to talk with the young idiot before they arrived. "You really shouldn't treat people like that."

He waited until they reached the next floor before he continued, "Not only could you end up hurting an innocent unnecessarily, but you could be hurt in return by one of that person's friends."

Finally reaching the floor of their destination Harry decided to relieve the redhead's fears. "I'm not going to hurt you now. But I would appreciate it if you apologized to my only friend."

When they reached the hall Harry noticed a rank smell hovering in the air like a toilet had backed up a few days ago. He dropped Ron and began running toward the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, "If she's hurt it's your fault."

Ron stood their processing this last part when the smell registered with a description he had once heard. Troll.

The raven-haired boy burst into the bathroom and skidded to a halt on the wet floor. Hermione had obviously dodged the first swing of the huge creatures club, which was now resting in a crater of porcelain and tile where a sink used to be.

Harry yelled, "Stop!" The magically amplified command echoed around the room like a gunshot, rattling the windows.

The troll turned slowly to investigate the source of the noise, swiveling its ugly head around. When its eyes met Harry's the dumb monstrosity paused. The power it saw in those glowing green orbs caused it to have second thoughts about attacking their owner.

The troll quickly threw off its indecision and lifted the massive piece of wood in its hand to attack the shrimp that dared to command it. Harry shot forward, ducking his head and driving it into the troll's crotch. The creature let out a howl of pain and doubled over, Bringing its head within inches of Harry's.

Harry put his hands on the sides of the monster's face and drew back.

"Never!"

WHAM!

"Try!"

WHAM!

"To hurt!"

WHAM!

"My friends!"

WHAM!

The faculty came running past Ron just in time to see Harry headbutt the troll for the last time. The giant beast keeled over backwards, causing water to fly out over the scared girl just peeking out of the stall where she had been hiding.

The headmaster pulled a small pouch out of his pocket and looked at it. Shaking his head, Dumbledore turned and walked out, muttering, "Made this batch too strong."

Harry stood over his victim, content in his victory. It had been a long time since he had been a descent fight, even though this troll lacked the tactics to really make it interesting. He did so miss Skuld at times like this.

"Mister Potter! What are you doing here?" Minerva screeched.

"I was coming up here to help someone apologize to my best friend. It just so happened that the troll was here when we arrived." Harry said.

"So you were accosting one of my students," Snape sneered, "and just happened to be in the right place to end up fighting a troll."

"Yeah, that's about right." The green eyed boy said.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for endangering a fellow student. And another ten for not heading straight to your dorm when ordered to." Snape said, a cruel smile on his face.

"Hold it right there dickhead. I was never ordered back to the dorms, and I didn't endanger Ron. I left him down the hall when I realized there was a troll here. Him coming to the door was his own stupidity." Harry snapped back.

"Don't talk back to me, Potter. Another ten points from Ravenclaw." Severus growled.

"Get this straight pencil dick. I don't care about your stupid house competition. I've been preparing for something bigger since I could stand, and the only reason I'm here is because someone wants me here. So you can go fuck yourself if you think taking a few points from me is going to matter." He turned to the other teachers, who were a little shocked at what they had just heard, "I think that is enough excitement for tonight. We're going to our dorms now."

Harry went over and helped Hermione up, leading her toward the door. Just before they got there Snape moved to block their path. Emerald eyes flashed briefly, the visual side effect of a wave of magic that sent the greasy haired man flying back into the wall. Snape slid down the wall, his eyes glazed and head lolling to the side. With the path clear the pair of students left, ignoring the red-head waiting outside. Ron decided this was a good time to get back to the Slytherin dorms, before he got into trouble himself.

The teachers were left standing there, wondering what had happened. Flitwick tapped McGonagall on the shoulder, "Still think I've been watching too much now Minerva?"

"But how is this possible? How could an eleven year old boy be capable of controlled wandless magic?" Sprout asked.

"Because he's not eleven. Something about him is out of phase with what he should be. He's not using ordinary wandless magic. What we just saw was a mage using his aura to increase the force of a hit and push a pompous ass out of his way. Somehow that young man has been trained in a form of magic even Merlin thought was a myth." Flitwick said.

"We need more information before we proceed. One of us, someone he trusts, needs to ask him about his childhood." Minerva sounded like she was thinking out loud.

"Didn't you say that he met Poppy first?" Flitwick asked.

"Indeed. He seemed to open up to her in Diagon Alley." McGonagall nodded, "I'll have a word with her and we'll see what's up."

xxxXXXxxx

The next morning Harry was surprised to have a school owl land right next to his plate and hold its leg out. Detaching the letter and feeding the owl some bacon he wondered who would be writing to him. The owl flew off as he broke the wax seal, with the coat-of-arms of Hogwarts, and unfolded the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I have been wondering how you are doing since the last time we saw each other. If you are not otherwise engaged please come by to see me in the Hospital Wing.

Sincerely,

Madam Poppy Pomfrey  
Healer  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Harry glanced at his best friend, who had read the note over his shoulder, and asked, "Think it's about last night?"

"Most likely. They probably feel that since she was the first one of them you met that you'll open up to her and spill all your secrets." The bushy haired girl said.

"I wonder how I could turn this to my advantage? Maybe I could get the where abouts of my godfather out of her." Harry pondered the possibilities.

"But what about your childhood? Won't they be a little weirded out about you being raised in another reality and all?" Hermione's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"It wouldn't even be the first time I've lied to them. And I wasn't told not to tell them eventually, just to delay it as long as possible." He answered her, "And the trade off could be very valuable to me."

xxxXXXxxx

"Hello Madam Pomfrey." Harry said as he entered the medi-witch's office.

"Why hello Harry." She said in reply. "It's good to see you again. How have you been?"

He took the seat opposite her, "Fine. Bit of trouble with a lumbering brute last night, but nothing I can't handle."

The somewhat smug tone of his voice made her wonder if this was the same small boy she had met just a few months ago. "And are you making friends?"

"I'm not sure you'd call them friends. There's one boy in who keeps wanting to hang out with me, but he just rubs me the wrong way. And he keeps insulting Hermione." He said, "Then there's Draco. He seems like an okay guy, but he has some weird ideas."

The medi-witch motioned for Harry to sit and started casting some diagnostic spells on him. The information was even more surprising than the base-line she had received so many months ago. The malnutrition was gone and his muscle tone was so much better she could hardly believe this was the same young boy. Then the signs of broken bones flashed, confirming that it was Harry.

"Madam, Pomfrey." Harry began tentatively, "Where is Sirius Black?"

A little shocked at the question she answered before she could think about it, "He's in Azkaban for betraying your parents and causing an explosion that killed a group of muggles and one wizard."

"But that's not possible." He blurted out.

Having recovered from her surprise Pomfrey responded, "I assure you Mr. Potter, that the evidence is incontrovertible. He was found by Aurors on the edge of a crater littered with the bodies of the people he killed. Including the finger of Peter Pettigrew."

Harry considered this for a moment. They had gotten it all wrong, and the only way to prove both charges false was for Wormtail to turn up alive and well. He could remember all the stories his father had told about his one time friend, including his Animagus form. The young man decided he had to find the traitor and get his godfather out of that hell hole.

"Is there anything else Madam Pomfrey?" He asked, knowing he was going to be busy on the long weekend looking for one of his father's friends in order to free another.

"I would like to know how you defeated that troll last night?" The medi-witch asked.

"Oh that." He smiled, "That was just a simple shield hit. It works best when you're fighting a larger opponent who is resistant to magic."

"I see you've been studying then, to know that a troll is magic resistant." She said, a little proud of the young man.

"Yeah, studying." He said a little doubtfully, having learned all this information through practical means. "Is that all?"

"I think so, Yes. But if you start to have any problems come and see me immediately." Harry was out the door before the older woman had finished speaking.

The raven haired boy had too much to do. First he had to contact someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and request transcripts for his godfather's trial. This would allow him to start formulating an appeal, since those damn birds had drilled the law codes of this magical Britain into his head. Then he had to find the real traitor, wherever he happened to be, and secure him for the shock factor it would cause in court to have the man they thought was killed appear before them. This presented the most trouble, as the filthy little creature could be anywhere, even on the other side of the planet. Finally, he had to find some time to spend with Hermione. His best friend had been through a very traumatic experience the previous night and would need someone's shoulder to cry on, maybe even literally, pretty soon. Regardless of how she was acting this morning, Harry knew her well enough to recognize the haunted look in her eyes.

His thoughts had carried him back up to the Ravenclaw common room. He had even answered the question at the door without noticing, but making plans was something he liked to give as much attention to as possible. Harry found the room almost completely empty but recognized the mass of bushy brown hair sitting in one corner. He made his way over to his best friend, sliding smoothly into the chair opposite her.

"How's the book?" Harry asked, indicating the leather bound volume lying open in her lap. He could tell she wasn't actually reading it.

"Not bad, just seems to be going slower than usual." Hermione said, not really registering him at first.

"Helps if you're actually able to focus on it. Want to talk?" He asked.

"How did you defeat a Troll? They're supposed to take two or three adult wizards to bring down."

"Only if you do it the hard way. But knowing how to use magical resistance against them helps."

"But you could have been killed. All because I was in there crying my eyes out." Tears started to course down her face as she berated herself.

"Not bloody likely. I've faced things a lot more dangerous than a troll." He leaned forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. "The only thing I was worried about at the time was you. Now lets go play in the snow and just call last night a learning experience. Besides, I need my best friend to be able to help me out with a long term project."

She brightened at being reminded of their relationship. She knew he would let her talk herself out when she was ready, but now wasn't the right time for her. Hermione stood, saying, "Just let me get cleaned up and grab something warmer."

Harry watched her as she ran for the dorms. He went to one of the tables and started writing a quick letter to the DMLE. When he was done he sent a mental signal to Scheherazade, letting her know there was a letter to be delivered.

As the green eyed boy stood there waiting for the two women to arrive he contemplated the possibilities of the future. If Sirius was released he would probably be healing for some time, especially as bad as dementors could be. Harry had encountered a similar beastie on a wilder plane during his training with Mage Diggers. That thing had been feeding on the emotions of a whole clan of primitive humans. The mage had easily been able to banish the foul thing out of that reality and restored a few of the people that had been suffering the worst of the effects.

Now Harry had no delusions about his own ability to do such a thing. He had never progressed far enough with his aura magic teacher to even come close to the effect, and the dementors of this land were slightly different. He would not be able to banish one from this existence, as the walls around the pole of chaos did not allow for the transfer of physical matter anymore. Harry would have to learn this realities method for dealing with them, as they were inherently destructive entities.

The snowy owl flew into the room, landing on his shoulder. She looked at him quizzically while holding a leg out. Harry scratched her head gently, causing her to hoot softly. Then he tied the letter to her leg and she launched into the air.

Hermione came back into the room to find Harry making note in a small book she had never sen before. "What's that about?"

"I keep track of how many letters Scheherazade delivers. That way when she gets close to a thousand I'll know." The raven haired boy replied. He pocketed the book and turned to face his friend. "Are we ready to have some fun?"

xxxXXXxxx

Making their way out onto the snowy grounds Harry could see several good snowball fights already in progress. They ran over to a pair of redheads that were currently hunkered down behind a berm, weathering a hale of projectiles from another redhead.

The green eyed boy looked at them, "Want some help?"

The left twin spoke over his shoulder, not bothering to look at him, "Sure."

The right twin then said, "We're just waiting for him to run out."

"Then we'll get him back." The left one said.

"Mind if I try something?" Harry asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

The twin flame tops just shrugged.

A mop of unruly black hair popped over the hill of snow, directly into the path of a dozen balls of snow. He held his hand up and all the projectiles came to a lazy stop some distance away. Several more of the ice bombs came in before the red haired boy stopped launching them and began screaming, "Hey, Fred, George, that's no fair. This was supposed to be a family game."

One of the twins shouted back, "It was also supposed to be no magic, Percy."

The other one joined in, "Until we started kicking your ass."

"And you decided to pull your wand."

"That's when our friend came up."

"And now we think he's going to return the favor."

On cue Harry threw every snow ball back at the person that had thrown them his way. The fifteen rough globes of frozen water streaked in to hit the older brother across his entire body with enough force to throw him backwards for five feet. The fifth year boy landed with a thump, forcing the air from his lungs.

Fred and George ran over to catch as much of the expression on their brother's face as possible. To their combined disappointment they got there just in time to help him up, holding him steady while he sucked in air to fill his lungs. As soon as Percy saw the raven haired boy who had put him on his ass he stuttered, "You're Harry Potter."

Harry nodded, remembering all those jokes his dad had taught him, "Hope so. I'm wearing his underwear."

The twins laughed, both at the ice breaker and look on their prefect brother's face. Percy regained enough composure to be affronted by the recent loss, "I would have prefered to keep this particular fight a family mater, Mister Potter."

"You're just mad..." One twin said.

"because we found a cheat..." The other twin.

"That beat your cheat." The original speaker finished.

Fred and George threw their arms around their new friend and turned him to go back toward the castle.

"So, Harry, how..."

"Has life been treating..."

"You during your..."

"First year?"

Fortunately for Harry he had gotten used to whipsawing with his least favorite instructors, the dispicable birds. As Hermione joined them George wrapped an arm around her shoulders as well, showing that any friend of Harry was a friend of theirs. Harry answered their question, "Pretty good, except for three things."

"Only three things?" Both the twins asked together.

"First is Snape. I would have expected him to throw me out of class by now." Harry said.

"Ah, yes."

"The unpredictable..."

"Potion maker. You..."

"Have become quiet..."

"The legend around here."

"What is it with him? Can't he figure it out that I'll never produce the potion he wants." He smiled and lower his voice, "I honestly think Hermione is the only reason none of our stuff has exploded."

"He hates to..."

"let anyone go."

"Since it's a..."

"Required course..."

"He can torture..."

"Them for five years..."

"At least."

Harry thought about this for a moment, considering all the ramifications it might have on his plans. He was trying to explore the castle grounds in his free time, and having a class during the day would only add to his ability to do so. "Looks like I'm going to have to try a little harder."

"Don't get yourself into any trouble, Harry." Hermione admonished.

"Where's the..."

"Fun in that?"

"If you need..."

"Any help just..."

"Let us know."

Having reached the entrance hall about this time, the twins split off and headed for the sweeping staircases leading to the upper levels. Harry looked at his best friend and smiled, motioning for them to head the same way.

xxxXXXxxx

Minerva McGonagall was about ready to have a serious fit. Whatever was going on here was beyond her ability to deal with. First she has a student who can somehow manage to make the most unusual potions. Then she found Filch unconscious in a corridor the night before, muttering about that same student. Add to that his strange abilities with magic that had not been spoken of since the time of Merlin. And now the head of the DMLE was flooing her about a letter he sent inquiring about the traitor Black.

It was time to get Albus out of his fog and have him deal with this. Entering the headmaster's office she was immediately assaulted by the smelly cloud of smoke that hung in the room. She already had her wand out, as the man at the center of that cloud was not likely to cooperate. Minerva gave it a quick flick, clearing the offending haze.

Albus sat up, shocked to see his deputy standing in his office with her wand trained on him. "Minerva," He said with the minor slur of a long term stoner. "It took me four hours to build up that clou..."

That was as far as he got when he was hit with a sickly looking green light. The older man thought briefly that it looked like she had somehow managed to create a cannabis spell from the look of the light. That was until the energy washed over him. It had been over a decade since the Headmaster of Hogwarts had been stone cold sober, usually floating somewhere between smashed out of his mind and unconscious. The only reason he had survived this long was his magically enhanced regeneration and life span.

When Dumbledore's eyes cleared he instantly ran for the wastebasket sitting next to his desk. He emptied his stomach with three huge heaves, and then kept going. The suddenly clean system found itself horribly out of balance, and continued to make its owner try to purge.

After five minutes the gray haired man finally rolled onto the floor, exhausted from the ordeal. He quickly found his good friend and attacker standing over him, holding her had out with a sad look on her face. "Are you clean now Albus?"

He coughed for a moment before answering in a hoarse voice, "Yes, Minerva. Though I would like to know why you did this."

Helping him up she began to explain everything that had been happening over the past few months. When McGonagall finished the old man was looking a little shocked. "I'm sorry my good friend. I've been neglegent these past few years, especially this one."

"Don't you dare think you can apologize your way out of this. But we don't have time for you to make reparations, we have an eleven year old to unravel.

xxxXXXxxx

Hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter should be out much quicker.


	7. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and The Winter Court Chapter 6

Dumbledore was still on the sick side of a fast track recovery. His whole body was aching from the lack of recreational chemicals that he had been absorbing, in several ways, for years. Unfortunately he could not afford the luxury of rest right now. His deputy had been explaining a series of weird, even by his standards, occurrences.

The Headmaster finally got tired of her voice and interrupted, "I get the picture Minerva. Now tell me what you think is going on."

"Would I have gone this far if I had the foggiest idea what was happening, Albus?" The rather irate witch snapped.

"I have a few ideas." Dumbledore said while stroking his beard, "It reminds me of the ancient legends, and some articles I read in my youth."

"Articles? You mean some muggle publications?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes. A young man living in the colonies. I never met him myself, but several of his ideas on the Dreamlands were... Disturbing." The powerful wizard's hesitation worried the Deputy Headmistress.

"But the Dreamlands are only a myth. Something that used to be used to get young wizards to charge into battle, without them worrying about death as much. Merlin himself said that he never found any evidence, aside from a few clairvoyants that muttered gibberish most of the time."

"How else would you explain the young Mr. Potter's abilities? Or his interesting potions talent?." Albus had that far away look that always bothered her, "I believe that there are many answers that may be found in the old legends. I shall have to look into it."

"Albus, what are we going to do about this whole business with Black? Harry has apparently already contacted the DMLE. He may try to contact the man, and Sirius was always dangerous, even without a wand." Minerva looked riled by this whole thing.

Albus decided to take pity on her and reveal a secret he had kept for a long time. "Mr. Black would do nothing to harm Harry. He is a good and decent man who has suffered long for a crime he did not commit and was never tried for."

"But he was working for You-Know-Who. He betrayed Harry once, why wouldn't he do it again?"

"He was not the Potter's secret keeper, Minerva. That was Peter." Dumbledore sounded tired.

McGonagall gasped, "Why Albus? Why did you let him suffer for carrying out the justice the Aurors would have given the traitor?"

"Because I had no evidence to contradict the official assumption." Albus shook his head, "Life may have been different for our young Mr. Potter if I could have proved his innocence. But that is not something we can change now. We must try to assist Harry in any way we can, and I have an old friend I need to consult with."

He stood and smiled at his friend and confidant, "Thank you Minerva, and as little as it is worth, I am sorry. Hopefully I can make it up to all of you in the coming days."

xxxXXXxxx

A week after the incidents of Halloween, Harry came to find his best friend in the Common Room. They had spoken often in the past week, helping her to come to terms with what had happened. With time she had started to understand her friend much better. Now he felt it was time to begin the search for his parent's betrayer.

"Hey Hermione." He waved nonchalantly as he slipped into the chair across from her. "You got a minute?"

She cast a lidded glance over her book, wondering what kind of trouble he was about to get her into. "Is this going to get us in trouble?"

"Most of it, no. But there are a few parts that could get dicey if we get caught." He smiled as she rolled her eyes. "First we have to reproduce something my father made while he was in school."

"And that would be?" Despite herself, Hermione was becoming interested in the upcoming task.

"They called it the Marauder's Map. It showed a map of the school and all of its occupants."

"Sounds like a tricky bit of charm work. Are you sure we can do this?"

"We have all the information he can give us on it, so I don't see a problem there. The really complicated part is going to be making some specific modifications so we can find track Wormtail."

"I can see needing a wider area, as well as finding a person under animagus. It might also be useful to give a filter for some other effects too." Hermione was already writing down a list of things they would need to add to the Marauder's Map Mk. 2 to make it the most useful tool they could have.

"All in good time. But that's where things can get a little dicey. I figured we could start with making an initial prototype that can detect polyjuiced individuals. This way we can figure out how to add things to it without destabilizing the spell matrix. I also know a few ways to use runes that will help with this."

On an unspoken agreement the two teens started splitting the task between them. They stayed like this for hours, making some of the other ravenclaws wonder what the pair could be working on like that. Then the curious students would remember something else and run off to get it done, leaving Harry and Hermione to their work.

xxxXXXxxx

Following Halloween, one of the things that Harry started doing was to wonder the school at night. Fortunately for him there was a profound lack of corridor patrols at this late hour. He theorized that this was due to most teachers being in bed, and the few that were alert were focusing on the more popular areas of the school. Such as the potions classroom, where they could perhaps nick a few ingredients for simple but illicit brews. Or the kitchens, where many people would go for a late night snack.

But out in the far reaches of the castle, where classes were not taught, there was almost no one looking for wayward charges. There might be the occasional ghost floating down the hall, usually deep in thought, but they just kept going. He had explored three of the disused classrooms, finding the occasional scrap of parchment with a teacher's note on it. Nothing terrible useful, but you never knew when a minor tidbit of advice would come in handy.

Tonight he was checking out another one that had an odd magical artifact in it. He could clearly see the swirling pattern of contained runic power through even the walls. He had also found something else of interest while exploring like this. Very specific runic symbols, those he had learned deep in the dreamlands, were carved at strategic points around these parts of the school. As he found them he calculated the overall breath of the ritual circle that they would encompass. Most of the school was in fact within this array, which appeared to be crafted by his nemesis.

If Voldemort was in the school, it meant that he was hiding inside someone. Harry couldn't understand what would convince someone to allow that vile creature access to their body, but figured everyone had their price. The raven haired boy had smiled, "So you plan to use the school, and the souls of everyone in it, to power the summoning circle? We'll just see about that." He had recorded the runes and began piecing the information together. He would have to work on the right way to modify them later, but that would require at least ninety percent of the array being known. This is what led him to this runic patterns suggested a very powerful magical focus, possibly a power source for the array. It didn't quite fit the equation he had already found, but you never knew.

Entering the room Harry found two magical sources. One from the object and another from the headmaster sitting in the corner under an invisibility spell. Whatever the old man was doing, Harry would let him believe he went unnoticed. Turning to the object Harry understood why the thing was so powerful. Etched around the frame was the most intricate rune work he had ever seen. The runes were so expertly formed and arranged as to make one wonder at the sanity of the creator. The script seemed to loop back on itself, over and over again. This was the feature causing the energy from the environment to collect and pool inside the item.

He became aware of a pattern emerging within the intricate rune work. Reaching out he drew a pattern in the air that connected all the symbols. Satisfied with the arrangement he drew his wand.

Dumbledore was unsure what Harry was doing, but he felt the young man's motions had a purpose. What was most surprising was that the child was not enraptured by the Mirror of Erised as so many others were. When Harry drew his wand the elderly wizard was tempted to intervene, rather than risk damage to the centerpiece of his trap. The raven haired boy pressed the tip of his wand into his finger, not even bothering to whisper a spell. When he took it away a large drop of blood welled forth quickly.

The young mage reached out and began touching runes, the exact same ones that he had traced just a moment before. He worked his way around the frame, leaving a string of glowing blue spots in his wake. All the wild reports that had inundated the old man over the last few days became completely possible as he watched this boy create a runic array from a preexisting set. While not absolutely impossible, it took a very talented master, someone with around a century in the practice, to do what this boy of eleven was doing.

When Harry touched the thirty-first rune the entire array flared a brilliant cerulean, drawing power from the mirror. Though Dumbledore could not see, an image resolved in the reflective surface. Harry spoke to his parents, "Hey Mom, Dad. Sorry to surprise you like this, but I found this really cool mirror that's supposed to show you your heart's deepest desire. I manipulated the energy temporarily to create a semi-stable portal."

The voice from the Mirror of Erised echoed around the room, startling the old man sitting in the corner, "It's okay honey. What can we do for you?"

"Do you remember that thing Aunt Skuld made for me? I could use it." Harry answered his mother.

"How bad is it son?" James Potter asked as his wife ran off.

"He's here. I've found evidence of a summoning array all over the school so far. If he makes his move soon that item would come in handy."

Lilly reappeared and held out what looked like a plastic blueprint case toward her son. Dumbledore was astonished to see a package push it's way out of the rippling surface of the mirror. Harry took the end that was offered to him and dragged it the rest of the way through.

"I love you guys." Harry said, "Hope to see you again soon."

With that the glowing runes faded, returning the Mirror of Erised back to it's former state. Harry stood there for a moment, head down and silent. Finally he spoke, "You know Headmaster, I really hated having to come back here."

"Why is that Harry?" Albus asked, not letting even a hint of his mounting surprise be heard.

"Because this is the only way I can see them now. I've built up too much power to go back, even if there was a true portal that I could use."

"To the Dreamlands?"

"So you've put that much together, have you?" Harry finally turned to look at the Headmaster, "Yes, sir, to the Dreamlands. I grew up there, under the loving care of my parents."

"Is that how you got all those injuries, under their care?"

"Watch it, old man. My parent spoke highly of you, so don't go insulting them. I got most of these learning to fly dragons. Falls and bumps, that kind of thing. Then there was my Aunt Skuld." Harry was shaking his head and smiling at the memories.

"Aunt? I seem to recall that your mother was the only one with a sister?"

Harry chuckled, "The three sisters, Vervandi, Skuld, and Urd, were my teachers for a time. I was young and that was the way they were introduced to me. I came to think of them as very close friends, despite the fact that Skuld would trounce me almost every day."

The Headmaster was alarmed by the news of one of his student's being beaten daily, "Why did she do that, Harry?"

"She was my first melee weapons instructor. Don't look so surprised. She was about my size at the time, but has centuries of experience." Harry rubbed his ribs on the right hand side. "And that little hammer of hers is a real bitch."

Dumbledore recognized the motion involved in remembering a cherished injury. There was no way to fake the little smile on his face as the memories of what he learned rushed through his head. Albus even found himself rubbing his leg just above the knee. "If I might ask, what did your other aunts teach you?"

Harry smiled, "Very good, old man, very good. But since it doesn't matter now anyway, my Aunt Vervandi taught me about runes, ancient, Egyptian, divine, a few with names that aren't even translatable into English. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to think in three different languages when you're nine."

"So that was just two years ago?" Dumbledore asked. The old man just assumed that there wouldn't be much time for other things after learning that.

"Yes and no." Harry replied, "Time doesn't always work the same on the other side. From my perspective that was five years ago. I spent about a year studying with them before I started learning from others."

The headmaster kicked up his estimations of Harry a few notches higher. If the boy had learned this much in a year, the prospect of him learning other things at the same pace was both frightening and reassuring. Dumbledore didn't like thinking of the child prodigy before him in terms of the prophecy, but having him so well trained made him think that Tom might be subdued more easily. Returning to the previous question, "What did your other aunt, Urd I believe it was, teach you?"

Harry chuckled, "You may not approve of it, sir, but she taught me how to drink, among other things."

Albus was suddenly furious at the statement, "Are you telling me that this woman got a nine year old drunk?"

"Calm down old man. You'll burst a blood vessel at your age." Harry said in a placating tone, "She was teaching me how to do alcohol magic. You see, she draws her energy directly from the drink. Over the years, she's managed to learn how a magic user can accomplish the same thing through magically manipulating their biochemistry."

"And she taught you these charms?"

"Yeah. As long as I stay conscious I can't get drunk unless I choose to. At the same time, I get a huge energy boost while my body metabolizes the alcohol into a magical catalyst. It can be fun, seeing your own father trying to out-drink both his son and a centuries old woman at the same time, and failing miserably." Harry could see the smile spreading on the Headmaster's features as he described James' antics.

"Is that all that she taught you, my boy?" The grinning Albus asked.

"Well..." Harry trailed off, continuing with a bit of a blush, "She also taught me how to kiss, for when I meet the right girl. She promised to teach me more after that, too, but I don't know what that will be."

The old man almost burst out laughing at the darkening features of the boy before him that was discussing his first kiss. It was reassuring that Harry could still feel embarrassed, not all of his innocence gone yet. "I do hope you'll tell me who taught you how to do wandless magic one day, but I think it's time for bed. You must be tired Harry."

"Not hardly. Sleep is a little too overrated anyway." Harry smiled at the white bearded man sitting there trying to get a promise for more information. "As for that thinly veiled question, it's not wandless magic as you call it."

With that said, the raven haired boy left the room to continue his exploration.

xxxXXXxxx

It was the end of the second week of November before the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Amelia Bones, was able to get away long enough to visit Hogwarts. Her job kept her busy, dealing with all the reports of petty crimes committed by a seemingly endless supply of such criminals and serious crimes committed by a handful of die-hards left over from the last war. As the stately woman made her way up the ancient steps she was reminded of her days at this prestigious academy. Life seemed so much simpler back then, when all she had to worry about was getting her OWLs.

With a sigh she pushed the giant front doors open to reveal the entrance hall. Standing a few feet past the opening was her old friend from her school days, "Hello Minerva, I wasn't expecting to be greeted at the door."

"A person of your position, Madam Director, should be shown proper respect." McGonagall replied.

"Cut that out. It wasn't that long ago I was one of your students, being chastised for being out after curfew." The head of the DMLE responded.

Smiling at her old friend, the deputy headmistress conceded, "Very well Amelia, but only when the students are not around. Are you here about the Potter matter?"

"Fortunately yes, and I need to speak with Dumbledore about that, before meeting with Mr. Potter." the director motioned for them to head for the headmaster's office.

"Do you know why he would suddenly take an interest in that murderer, Black?" McGonagall asked as they walked.

"You do know that his guilt was never proven. Without a trial we will most likely never know exactly what took place that night that lead to the death of one of his best friends."

"Why was that? Even the worst of The Dark Lord's followers received a trial."

"I was just an Auror back then, so I don't really know the details. It seems as though an agreement was reached between The Minister, The Head of The Wizengamot, and The DMLE head of the time. Whatever else happened, those three decided the fate of one man all on their own." Bones answered.

"I can't believe Albus would have allowed Sirius to rot in that hell we call a prison, especially with what he's told me." Minerva wasn't yet ready to betray the confidence of her boss and mentor, but the more she learned the less she liked him.

"I don't think he had much of a choice. Minister Bagnold and Director Crouch were both very bloodthirsty back in the day. Since Black was instantly labeled as a Death Eater when the Potters died, they most likely wanted his head. Dumbledore probably had to bargain just to keep Black alive, but without definitive proof there was no way to free him. If Sirius had gone to trial in that environment, it would have ended with him getting kissed." Amelia had caught the hint that the Wizengamot's head knew something he wasn't making public, but she respected the loyalty of her friend.

Reaching the guardian to the headmaster's office, a giant stone gargoyle, Minerva gave the password, lemon drop, and they rode the spiral stair to the next landing. The deputy headmistress knocked before entering, finding her employer sitting behind his desk with a serene look in his twinkling eyes.

"Albus, Director Bones to see you." She looked around and was pleased to see that all of his little silver widgets were still and silent. Apparently, the headmaster had regained use of that eye twinkle ability while sober.

"Ah, yes. Welcome back to Hogwarts, Director." Dumbledore came around his desk to shake the law enforcement officer's hand. "I do so appreciated you coming to see me about this situation."

"Headmaster," Bones replied, "It's nice to have an excuse to come back to my once home away from home. I have many fond memories of this warm old castle."

Albus motioned for them to sit as he resumed his place. "I am sorry that we could not have met in a more informal capacity, but I felt we should handle this as soon as possible."

"Indeed, Albus." The head of the DMLE answered as she pulled a suspiciously thin stack of parchment out of her bag. "I would like to have a few things clarified."

"Of course, Amelia. Please ask anything you like."

"Should I go, Albus?" Minerva inquired, starting to stand.

"Only if you wish Professor. I can't think of anything we may discuss that could impact your opinion of me." That damn twinkle was back as the old man communicated in undertones with his deputy.

"Very well." The transfiguration teacher sunk back into her seat.

"So, Amelia, what is it you would like to know?"

"Why was there no trial held for Black?" The Director began the questions.

"That was my decision actually. The evidence was overwhelming and public opinion was against him. I decided to send him to prison to avoid the director of the DMLE and the Minister from pushing for the kiss." The years seemed to show on Dumbledore's face as he admitted to sending a man to the living version of hell rather than let him be killed.

"Why not just let him be kissed, if he is the traitor and killer we were lead to believe?"

"Because he has never betrayed anyone. He was not the secret keeper for the potters, because we felt that he was too obvious a choice. It turns out that Peter was actually working for Tom, so we actually just handed them over without a fight. Then Sirius went after Pettigrew, despite his responsibilities to Harry. When Black found his target, the despicable weasel set off an overpowered blasting curse to cause a distraction."

"Now here's where it gets fuzzy. Either Peter killed himself, or he used some sort of technique to escape and leave Sirius to take the blame for the muggle deaths. Since all the pre-obliviation statements pointed toward Mr. Black committing the crime, the Minister and head of the DMLE were all ready to call for a punishment that the crime called for. But I knew that Sirius was innocent of the crime he was being judged on, as well as the one he was being charged with. Unfortunately, I couldn't just let him go without proof."

"So what do you think Mr. Potter has to add to the discussion?" Amelia asked.

"I have no idea." Dumbledore answered, "Given the discussions I've had with him, it could be anything. And no, I am not willing to mention more about those conversations. I think that you should speak to him and find out."

"Albus, you're okay with one of our student's being questioned by a member of the DMLE?" Minerva inquired.

"I can assure you, Minerva, that I won't be using veritaserum on him. I just want to know where he can help me, or I him as the case may be," She withdrew the letter Harry had written her and handed it to McGonagall, "to correct this travesty of justice and free his godfather."

After reading the short correspondence from one of the student's the deputy headmistress relented, "I can't say that I am completely happy about this, but if you don't have a problem with this Albus, I suppose it's alright."

xxxXXXxxx

Harry was still up to his old tricks, sneaking around the school after Hermione went to bed. Ever since his run in with the old man, the youth had started taking more chances. He was currently comparing an incomplete diagram of the summoning circle he had found, overlaid on a map of the school, to the actual location the next mark should be in. The transfiguration classroom was an unlikely place to find it, as it was such a high traffic place. Still it should right about there.

He bent down to find a flow of energy hidden under a shallow cover stone. Using a simple levitation spell, channeled through his wand to avoid lifting everything in the classroom, the stone rose and settled on a desk several feet away. Harry then filled in the information and turned to the cover stone.

The black haired mage then drew his blade and began flowing power through it, heating the blade quickly. He then went through the careful motions of carving a small circle into the underside of the piece of rock. Satisfied with his work, the young magic user replaced the cover. Turning to leave he was surprised to find the door opening to reveal a white bearded individual coming in.

The headmaster was followed by two others, McGonagall and Bones. The three of them spread out before the boy, each of them respecting him to different degrees and for different reasons. Albus had come to admire the child's skill at several arts, including some that he considered mythical. Minerva had seen his work in her class, as well as hearing about his proficiency with the other subjects, and could understand that he was no ordinary student. Bones had found the wording of his letter to be mature beyond what should have been possible for his age. The subtle hints contained therein had also interested her immensely.

The green-eyed young wizard took a seat and nodded his readiness to the old man. Albus smiled and began, "Mister Potter, under normal circumstances I would protest your being out of bed at this late hour. But you are, I believe, a special case, and not likely to listen to me anyway. Especially not after the way I heard you dressing down Professor Snape, which was also out of line."

The gray-haired man's words may have been scathing, but his tone was almost one of amusement. "So, allow me to introduce Madam Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, whom you have been writing to."

"Madam Bones." Harry nodded.

"Mister Potter." Amelia replied with an equal nod. Her monocle was allowing her to spot all the items hidden strategically in his clothes. The wand in a gauntlet holster, short blade strapped to his hip, and several small notebooks she was unable to glean the contents of because of some sort of runic protection.

"Please, Director, call me Harry." He responded to her greeting, "And the blade is a family heirloom I carry for protection."

Blinking at the obvious semi-rebuttal, Bones smiled, "Sorry for prying. Just an old habit that's hard to break, from the war."

"Completely understandable Director. Now, what can I do for you?" Harry was enjoying putting the DMLE director of balance. It was the best way to even the field.

"Well, Harry, from your letter, you wanted to know why Sirius Black was currently in prison." He nodded, signaling her to continue. "The criminal Black was imprisoned for mass murder. He cast an overpowered blasting curse into the middle of a crowded muggle street. It resulted in a dozen fatalities, including one of his close friends, Peter Pettigrew."

"Pettigrew was no friend of Sirius's. He betrayed my parents, which explains why the numb skull decided to go off chasing him." He turned to the deputy headmistress, "Do you remember my godfather's time at school?"

"I don't think I shall ever forget it." She replied, a little testily.

"Did he ever suffer from extreme inaccuracy, missing his target by more than an inch?"

"Not to my knowledge." Minerva replied. "I remember one time when he managed to hit a moving target thirty yards away."

"So if he was facing a man, even across a street, he would not be likely to hit the center of the street?"

"I would agree with that assertion."

Harry turned back to the director, "What is the effect of the blasting curse on the human body?"

"It is a rather messy way of dismembering a person, causing an inordinate amount of bleeding. Death Eaters were rather fond of using that curse as a method of torture."

"So an overpowered blasting curse would most likely leave little physical evidence, much less a prisoner that could be interrogated. So why would he have used that curse if he knew he would be the prime suspect in my parent's betrayal?" Harry summed up the idiocy of the assumptions made in this case.

Madam Bones was quickly coming to terms with how intelligent this young man was. All his points were valid, and would have stood up in any wizarding court, even those just after the war. "I take it you have a theory about what happened."

Harry smiled, "I would suspect that Peter was the one that used the blasting curse, so that he could escape through the sewers in his animagus form, that of a rat."

"But Peter was not a registered animagus." McGonagall protested.

"He, and most of his friends, were unregistered animagus. The notable exception is Remus Lupin, who is a werewolf. Sirius was a grim, my father, James, was a stag, and Peter was a rat. This worked out perfectly during the full moon, as Pettigrew could disable the Whomping Willow, allowing them to access the tunnel located under it. This tunnel took them to the shrieking shack, where Remus was sequestered during the full moon. The two larger creatures could overpower the werewolf without having to worry about the dangers involved with interacting with a werewolf, since they are only aggressive toward humans in that state. The group would run all over the countryside, and the dark forest, creating several of the myths that surround this place." Harry was enjoying the looks of shock coming from his audience.

Albus lifted his wand and sent a thin wisp of silvery smoke out the window. A few moments later a reply arrived, with a single word, "Yes."

The old man sagged, "Remus just confirmed what Harry said. So it is possible the finger that received a hero's funeral was deliberately severed. Now we just have to find a rat, possibly literally, in order to prove Mr. Black's innocence."

"I don't think so Albus." Amelia countered. "Everything I've heard tonight would be more than enough to reopen the case, and the current make-up of the Wizengamot would would favor the release of a pureblood scion on the terms of lack of conclusive evidence."

"Madam Bones," Harry interrupted, "I would ask you to wait for me to possibly get you some, as you say, conclusive evidence."

"What new information could be introduced this long after the event?" Bones asked.

"Would an innocent man hide for ten years, especially when his supposed killer was safely locked away in prison?" The others look a little confused to start with, then The DMLE Director's eyes went wide. "Exactly, I think I can find Peter Pettigrew. Using a modified version of an artifact Peter helped make, I should be able to track him anywhere on the planet, even in his animagus form."

Amelia look thoughtful for a moment, weighing the possibilities of the situation, "I can't see where it would hurt to wait a little while, but I'm still going to have Black moved, quietly, to a facility other than Azkaban, maybe even the Ministry cells, just to get him away from those monsters."

"I would appreciated that Director." Harry waited a moment to make sure the discussion was over. "If there is nothing else, I really do have a lot of work to do still."

"Shouldn't you be headed to bed, since you have classes tomorrow?" Minerva asked, a little pointedly.

Albus grinned, "I don't think we will have to worry about young Harry's performance, especially considering that he does this every night."

The deputy headmistress was miffed at the exception to her cherished rules, but didn't argue with the man she respected even after his mistakes.

Harry then looked at the gray haired man, "Albus, would you be kind enough to tell Snape to back off. I've been nice, stopping anyone from getting hurt. But if he doesn't stop being a jack ass soon, I'll make sure he's in the next shield I throw up to protect the class."

With that, the raven haired boy left. His departure leaving three very stunned adults in his wake.

xxxXXXxxx

Apparently Dumbledore had spoken to the potions master about his behavior, because his attitude had seriously changed. He had gotten even more belligerent in his persecution of one Harry Potter. As the end of November approached, the green eyed mage decided he had put up with enough.

Hermione was just adding an ingredient she had been grinding into a fine powder when Severus came over to their table. The greasy haired professor leaned in close to whisper in this least favorite student's ear, "I'm not afraid of you Potter, no matter how popular you are with the headmaster."

"Professor, only a fool is fearless, especially when his death is standing next to him." Harry said as he continued to word diligently.

"My death?" Severus snorted, "Are you threatening me Potter?

"I'm warning you Snape, if you don't stop distracting me, I won't be able to stop every little disaster that happens in your class. Like the cauldron about to explode right beside you." Just as he said it, the potions apparatus shared by himself and Hermione boiled over. The frothing pink substance quickly filled the shield surrounding the cauldron and professor, engulfing the helpless man in some random substance.

Cold green eyes watched patiently until the pressure seemed to abate. He dropped the shield to reveal a very large mass of frazzled black hair, behind which were a pair of horrified eyes darted quickly around the room. With a somewhat higher pitch squeak than would have normally been present, the least favorite teacher in the school ran quickly from the room.

"I think that means the class is over everyone." A minor cheer accompanied the statement, along with the sounds of student's filing out the same door, careful of the pink goo footprints leading the way.

xxxXXXxxx

A smirk played across the headmasters face as he looked over his second least favorite employee. The black haired, middle aged woman, with features disturbingly close to those Severus Snape, was a rather disconcerting sight.

Snape was none too happy about the prospect, "I do not find this amusing Albus. I want that delinquent expelled immediately for what he has done to me." The high pitched whining voice of the potions master just increased the humor for the old man.

"I do believe that I warned you Severus. You should have heeded my words." The grin on his face lit up the room. His deputy and the director had to work hard not to match his facial expressions. "No, will you be resuming classes tomorrow?"

"I've been assaulted and disfigured, Albus. There is no way I can continue teaching in this _condition_."

"Very well." The headmaster sighed, "Minerva, if you will escort Severus to her quarters to collect her things. She will be allowed to return to the castle once she decides she can take up her duties again. I suppose I will have to find a temporary replacement until that happens."

The gray haired old man made his way from the room, trusting his orders would be carried out. Once back in his office, Dumbledore pulled out some parchment and a quill. He began writing the short missive, expecting more direct communication quickly. Tapping the rolled up letter with his wand, the material sealed itself shut. He then handed it to his pet phoenix, Fawks, and watched as the intelligent creature of the light disappeared in a flash of flame.

This left him to wait and chuckle at the fact that his pet project had finally gotten a lesson in humility.

xxxXXXxxx

Albus was enjoying a cup of tea, strong and dark, and a few lemon drops, the clean recipe from before his tinkering, in his office. The sun had long since set behind the beautiful mountain that were still barely visable through the window he was gazing out. It had been a long and interesting day, with more than a few pleasant surprises.

There was a knock at the door. 'And here comes another one now' Dumbledore thought, saying "Enter."

The door opened, revealing a familiar face that hadn't changed one bit since the last time he saw it. "Ah, Nicholas, looking as young as ever."

Flamel smiled at the standard nudge, "Of course, Albus. Glad to see you got that habit under control again."

"With a little help from Minerva." The headmaster offered his guest a chair, "Though I don't remember it ever getting that bad before."

"It didn't, but you didn't have quite as much on your plate back then. I told you politics and war would be the death of you. Learned that lesson during my third century." Nicholas criticized, enjoying the old banter.

"Yes you did. But to the matter at hand." Dumbledore took a sip of his tea.

"Teaching Potions." Flamel smiled, "How is Miss Snape doing by the teaching the only reason you decided to drag me out of retirement?"

"Not entirely. There is the matter of young Mr. Potter. He is a most interesting case."

"Interesting how, Albus?" Nicholas asked with a raised eyebrow, "A possible alchemist?"

"Not quite. He has an interesting oddity that makes it impossible for him to brew the correct potion in class, something to do with his time spent in the dreamlands." The gray haired old man casually dropped the last word bombshell and waited for the response.

"You've been hitting the Acid Drops too hard again, _old friend_. The dreamlands are a myth."

"Apparently not, _older friend._ I have a student that can do aura magic and he can manipulate runes in a way even I would have considered impossible. He turned the Mirror of Erised into a temporary portal, through which he received an object of immense power, though not magical."

"Are you trying to tell me that Harry Potter has received some sort of training in these Dreamlands?" He rubbed his chin, contemplating all the implications. "While I won't dismiss the opportunity out of hand, I will have to see some proof."

"I believe you will, Nicholas. Just wait until you have your first class with him. He is very knowledgeable about a wide variety of subjects, including potions, even though he may not be able to preform them all correctly. Do not be surprised if you get some interesting products out of his course work." Albus was enjoying getting to brag about one of his students, especially to a man he regarded as a mentor.

"You mean like Quicksilver, I've been reading his file. I don't think there's ever been a precedent for this kind of thing." Flamel was starting to catch the contagious smile Dumbledore was radiating.

"I don't think I've heard that tone out of you since a month before we decided to end our partnership. With a new situation to unravel, it will be just like old times.

xxxXXXxxx

The next morning at breakfast, Harry was not paying all that much attention. His body was still craving all sorts of things, from protein to pure carbs, to fuel its massively revved up metabolism. This left little actual concentration for the endless prattle of the headmaster while he made his announcements.

Just as he was about to load up his third plate a snippet of monologue caught his attention, "and due to the absence of Professor Snape we will be welcoming my old friend Nicholas Flamel to teach Potions. He is being joined by his wife, Perenelle, who will be assisting in the hospital wing for the duration of their stay."

As Dumbledore paused for a breath, a young voice broke the silence of the hall, "Hey Perenelle, good to see you again."

All heads turned to look at Harry Potter as he waved at the multi-century old woman who was looking dignified as she patiently waited for her husband's friend to finish. As recognition dawned on her, her lovely face splitting into a wide grin, she waved back saying, "Harry, you young pup. It's been too long."

Hermione looked at her best friend with an expression that demanded to know more. Harry held up a finger to her and said, "I'll have to see about getting hurt so we can catch up, later."

Then he leaded down and whispered in his friend's ear, "Dreamlands."

She nodded and resumed her meal, knowing that he would explain it all in time. Then Dumbledore resumed, "I see. I hope all of you will join me and Harry in welcoming our new faculty members. Now, if you would all please remember that the final sign-up for returning home for Christmas break is due today. Now please, enjoy your day."


	8. Chapter 7

Harry Potter and The Winter Court Chapter 7

Later that evening, just as they were about to head down to dinner, Hermione cornered Harry in the Ravenclaw Common Room. "Okay Harry, you've been avoiding this all day. How do you know Perrenell Flamel? And why didn't you tell me you knew her?"

Harry had already put up his normal filters, so he wasn't worried about eavesdroppers, "I haven't told you a lot of the details of my years there. Nothing personal, just didn't seem important at the time so I didn't bring it up. She was one of the people that mom found to help her teach me about potions."

"So the wife of the greatest alchemist of all time, and a damn good alchemist herself if the biographies are right, was unable to get you to brew a potion correctly. You really are screwed up." She shook her head, finally realizing exactly how bad her best friend's condition was.

"Thanks, I think." Harry said with a mock tone of injury.

"Don't give me that." She smacked his shoulder to punctuate her words, "I know for a fact that you don't consider it a bad thing, just something to be endured until you can get out of it. You also enjoy turning in those strange concoctions we make in class."

He smiled, leaning back in his chair, "So I do, on both points. But as for my relationship with Perrinell, she and my mother became good friends while they were working together. That was a few years ago, and I haven't seen her since."

"Fair enough, and thank you for telling me Harry." An evil smile split her face, "Now, how do you want to go about getting hurt?"

xxxXXXxxx

"So that was the Harry you used to tell me about. The one you would teach in your dreams. The one who could somehow botch even the simplest potions." Nicholas looked at his wife thoughtfully until she nodded, "I guess that proves that it was really the dreamlands you were traveling through."

She stuck her tongue out at her doubting husband, "Told you mister skeptic. Maybe now we can have a real discussion about what that kid can do."

"Okay hun, but you can't blame me for being a little doubting given the circumstances. So, what can he really do." Nick asked, wanting to be as prepared as possible when he met with the object of his interest.

It took over half an hour for Perrinell to finish relating everything she knew about her once student, of coarse this was also with the qualifier that she had not seen him in years.

"No wonder Albus is impressed with the young man. With a resume like that, he would probably be the most powerful magic user on the planet as of right now, possibly ever."

"Come on Nicholas, you have a class in the morning and don't want to be cranky on your first day back." Perenell pushed her husband toward the bedroom, noticing the grin spreading across his face as well.

xxxXXXxxx

The next morning, following his regular exercises, Harry stopped by the Hospital wing. He walked through the doors to find the two medi-witches sipping tea around a small table that was separated from the patient area.

"Good morning, ladies." The raven haired boy smiled at them.

"Ah, Mister Potter." Poppy said, "I was just telling my new assistant about how you have made my job a lot less _interesting_ this year."

"How would that be, Madam Pomfrey?" His green eyes were sparkling like the headmaster's, but with a malicious and predatory hint to it.

The healer was sure he knew what she was referring to, "The first year Gryfindore Potions class has always been the worst for minor injuries and incomplete potions reactions. This year has seen that drop to a total of one actual injury, and that was the potions professor."

"Is it my fault if I don't want to see any of my fellow student's unnecessarily hurt?" He said as way of a defense, "Besides, this one over here should have plenty of fun stories from the last six hundred years."

"Oh that she does, but I do believe this is a time you would like to speak with Madam Flamel." Making her excuses, the healer exited the wing.

"It's been a while Madam Flamel." Harry held out his hand.

"Don't you give me that young man." Perrenell rushed forward, grabbing the young man in an enthusiastic hug.

Setting him on the ground, the wife of the oldest wizard in the world took a few moments to take stock. "You've grown so much from the last time I saw you, and your eyes, why did you change them?"

"Didn't. They started shifting on their own about a week after I got here. Damn place also makes me keep my shields at high or get burnt to a crisp." Harry took the other seat so they could get comfortable.

"And your parents, how is your mother?"

"They're fine, just spoke to them and got that little thing Skuld made for me." His expression darkened, "I'm afraid that may be the last time I'll see them, as the connection seems to have burned the link and permanently altered the Mirror of Erised."

"You damaged an ancient magical artifact just to call home?" There was a mix of incredulity and respect in the woman's voice.

"It wasn't intentional, I just temporarily altered the energy flow to open the link. It's not like all that energy was being used for anything constructive anyway." The green haired wizard shot back. "How was I supposed to know that it would cause the mirror to reflect scenes from the dreamlands. Guess there gonna have to change the name for a century or two, until the energy redistributes and it stops jumping fractures randomly."

The rest of the morning was passed with the two old friends passing stories back and forth. Harry completely ignored anything outside the hospital wing until his stomach growled loudly around lunch time.

"Guess I need to go eat something before my metabolism decides to eat me alive." Harry hugged Perrenell again and quickly made his way from the room.

xxxXXXxxx

After Nicholas's first class, the famous alchemist made his way to the Headmaster's office. Knocking on the door, he was surprised when it was wrenched open, "Get in here old man." Albus snarled.

"Calm do my young friend or you'll never get to be as old as me." Flammell shot back.

"Why didn't you tell me your wife knew Harry Potter? And why did you act so clueless when I told you about him?"

Sighing, the older of the two answered both questions at once, "I didn't make the connection between my wife's dreams and the young man we discussed."

"Your wife's dreams? Are you telling me she can travel to the Dreamlands some way?" Dumbledore was uncomfortable being the one with all the questions and very few answers for a change. Perhaps this was how he made others feel.

"Yes Albus, though not for a while now. From time to time, over the past few centuries, she has been able to access the Dreamlands through an induced trance state. She developed the technique based on a tome of Merlin's earliest research. This requires that several things, some of which are still unknown, be just right. The longest time frame has been a few years, then the barriers closed and she could no longer gain access. That was only a matter of years ago."

"What do you mean, the barriers?"

"The walls of reality are not static things, but change in thickness over the course of time. She's developed a ritual that allows her to gauge the relative resistance she might encounter to moving through the various layers of the dreamlands. In the recent past it's been too high for her to even reach the nearer layers. She believes that there is about to be a major shift in reality, like a storm brewing on the horizon or a war that could be just gearing up." Nicholas looked thoughtful, "She did say that a few months ago there was a major distortion that rippled through the walls separating things. That must have been when Harry came back completely."

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here, Nicholas?"

"It is a war, my young friend. One the likes of us can never even imagine. War that wages across uncountable worlds, and will take lives without number. The best thing that we can do is stay out of the way until it's over. If we get between the forces that are at work here, we will be squashed like bugs under the foot of a giant." Nichols was rubbing his temples.

xxxXXXxxx

Amelia was taking the weekend as an opportunity to visit her niece, Susan. She sensed that something was changing in the world, and she wanted her niece to be safe.

"Aunt Amelia." Susan excitedly cheered as she saw her only remaining relative approaching. "What are you doing at Hogwarts?"

"I came to see you, little one." The normally stern faced woman said with a warm smile. "Can't I come to see my favorite niece if I want to?"

"I'm your only niece Aunt Amy. But what really brings you here? I've never known you to just drop by like this." The suspicious younger bones added.

"There are some things that coming, I can't be more specific than that right now." Amelia answered.

"What are you talking about, what things?" The girl looked scared and confused.

"All I can say is, stay close to Harry Potter. Near him is the best place to survive what is coming."

"Are you trying to set me up with Harry?" Susan blushed.

"Not at all. But that doesn't mean you can't be his friend." The matronly woman answered.

"I'll try. Can I tell Hannah about it?"

"Of course, my dear, I would never try to break you too up."

ooo000OOO000ooo

"So let me get this straight, your aunt wants us to become friends with _the_ Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived?" Hannah Abbot asked her best friend.

"Yes and Yes. Don't ask me; I don't know what she's thinking, but I'm not going to pass on such an opportunity to get close to him." Susan had a predatory tone to her voice at the last.

"Are you planning something?" Hannah asked.

"If it just so happens that he and I get a little closer than friends, I don't see anything wrong with that. And I even have my guardian's permission, so what is there to loose." Susan answered.

"Have you seen him when he gets back from his morning run? Those tight shirts he wears make him look so buff." Hannah started getting a dreamy expression as she described her crush.

"He is dreamy, isn't he?" Susan echoed.

At that moment the object of their affection walked past, accompanied by his usual companion. This wasn't all that surprising, as the girls positioned themselves so that they would be able to follow the young man, and hopefully to catch him alone.

The two girls fell into step behind the pair of friends, about which there were a great many rumors, and continued the pursuit all the way to the great hall. Once in the dining area, they decided to let it go until the trip to their first classes.

After the meal, the silent vigil continued with the two girls following their prey at a short distance. In their way through the castle there was no indication that Harry or Hermione knew they were there. Until they came around a corner and found one wand each pointed between their eyes.

"Why are you following us?" The mouth attached to the green, illusion covered, eyes asked calmly.

"Ummm..." Susan began uncertainly, "My aunt told me that I should try to get... stay, I mean, stay close to you."

Harry smiled, but didn't relax the grip on his wand, "You're Madam Bones' niece?" She nodded, "And your companion?"

"I'm Hannah Abbot, her best friend. Where Susan goes, I go." The girl tried to be brave under the steady presence of the twin wands, and almost managed it.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, nodding after a second. Then Harry lowered his wand, "Okay, we'll talk later. In the mean time, you probably need to get to class, as do we."

Susan was surprised at the silent communication between the friends and started wondering how close they really were. "Um... Okay, later then."

xxxXXXxxx

On the way down to dinner Harry and Hermione ran into their earlier stalkers. He nodded to them and motioned toward one of the classrooms, saying, "In here."

When the door was closed Hermione started, "So what exactly was it you wanted to accomplish by 'staying close' to Harry?"

Since all pretense had apparently been abandoned Susan shot back, "First, what is it between you two?"

Harry laughed, "Not what you think ladies. We're just good friends who first met in Diagon Alley just before coming here."

"But Susan and I have known each other for years and still have trouble with the glance talking thing." Hannah protested.

"Yeah," Susan jumped in, "You two act like some of the old married couples I've seen."

"We do spend a lot of time together, but we've never even considered anything like that." Hermione said. "I think of Harry as a brother, and it would just feel too weird."

"So, what are you two after?" Harry restated the question.

"We would like to stay close to you." Susan said, "Though I would not be against getting closer to you."

"Hey, what about me?" Hannah interrupted.

"Why don't we just agree to be friends, and see if it grows into anything else, okay?" Harry cut off the impending fight.

The girls nodded, becoming two more friends that Harry could probably count on, once he got to know them a little better.

xxxXXXxxx

All of the students began to settle into a new routine with the latest addition to the teaching staff. Professor Flamel brought many changes to the subject of Potions, including the sudden lack of snide remarks and exploding cauldrons. This resulted in most of the student body increasing their ranking of the class from dead last to second or third. There were even a few of them that now found the class as their favorite.

Harry took notice of one of these students, a round faced young man with a talent for Herbology that was now beginning to excel in Potions in the two weeks since his most feared teacher departed. Neville Longbottom was kind and generous, sharing his insights with others and always happy to help the teachers after class.

The raven haired wizard thought of Mr. Longbottom as a good prospect for both a friends and a valued member of the team. With his new-found gift for potion making the young wizard could be invaluable in later stages of the battle against the forces of order.

And so it was that, one weekend in mid-December, a green eyed boy sat next to him in one of the many courtyards of the castle while three girls sat on the bench facing them.

"How's it going Neville?" Harry Asked.

Neville looked up from his Herbology text to find eight sets of eyes staring at him. "Um, okay."

"Relax. We just want to get to know you. You seem to be a nice guy, after all." Harry smiled warmly.

"But why me? I'm just a nobody." Longbottom mumbled the last, feeling very self-conscious.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Hannah said, "Professor Sprout says that you're the best in your year in her class."

"And I've heard that Professor Flamel say that your potions skills are improving at a rapid pace." Hermione added, "At least since he started teaching."

Neville blushed at the praise he was receiving from the girls, so Harry jumped in to save him, "Leave him alone girls, can't you see that he's embarrassed enough." Turning to the prospective friend he continued, "But what they say is true. You're better at potions than I'll ever be, and Herbology just doesn't seem to be my cuppa tea. But that aside, I do know that your parents and mine were good friends, so why not give it a chance?"

"Okay." The young Longbottom smiled, enjoying being praised.

xxxXXXxxx

Most of the student population left the castle a couple weeks before Christmas, going home to spend the holidays with their families. One notable exception was a raven haired, green-eyed, young man who had spent most of his life so far living a duel existence. His body was always in this world, while his mind was wondering the Dreamlands. He had no family to return to, as his relatives in this reality were not his favorite people, and his parents were on the other side of an energy barrier that he could no longer penetrate.

So he was at school through the holidays, working on the final touches for a magical device originally developed by the previous magical generation. This prototype version contained several modifications that would reveal even more information about the little dots scurrying over the surface of the parchment. It would have been impossible to layer any more charms into the original matrix, so he had woven a series of runes into the pattern to take some of the load. Twenty seven individual arrays, in three languages, were interconnected to produce a regenerative energy source to power all the effects required.

All that was left was to cast the last three spells, one to preserve the parchment indefinably, one to bind the two forms of magic together, and a last one to regulate the level of magical leakage, even in the most non-magical environments.

"Finished." Harry sighed. The runes flared briefly before fading into the surface, leaving a blank piece of parchment. He touched the rune on the left temple of his glasses, allowing him to see the flow of energies into and out of the map. He could see a few leaks, places where the flow didn't loop all the way back into the matrix. Making several notes on the parchment that was on the table for just that purpose he canceled the mage sight on his spectacles. While he could see broad lines and pools of energy with his innate sight, it would just show a glowing mass with the Maurauder's Map v 1.1, where as he needed to see specifics to know how to correct the effects for the finished product.

Harry and Hermione had talked about what the pass-phrase should be, eventually deciding to not fix what was not broken. Harry pulled his wand and touched it to the parchment, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Several spidery lines spread out from the point of contact, making the surface momentary look like glass that was shattering in slow motion. Then the lines turned, twisted, and crossed each other, extending to the edge of the parchment.

A wire-frame diagram of the school eventually resolved, showing a few dozen dots moving almost lethargically, at this scale, around the grounds. He also noticed around a hundred other dots that seemed to zip around, or simply disappear only to reappear at some other place. Then there were the ones that were sitting perfectly still, indicating people and creatures that were most likely asleep.

He studied the map for a short time, touching his wand to individual dots to bring up the information on the individual represented. House elves, Mrs. Norris, Professor McGonnagal, all were detailed with such things as species, general health condition, and any magic they were currently under the effect of. In the case of the deputy headmistress, she was currently in her animagus cat form, prowling around her quarters for whatever reason

Deciding to test another new feature , he placed his wand on one corner of the parchment and the pointer finger of his opposite hand on the opposite corner. He then drug the two together, causing the image to zoom out, showing the area immediately surrounding the castle and grounds. He repeated the process until he could see the whole of the British Isles. Being only a prototype for most of the upgrades, they had elected to limit the scope of the map. No point in overloading the matrix after all.

He went back to looking at the castle, focusing in on the Ravenclaw dorms, finding only a few specks there including his own. He scrolled over to the Hufflepuff dorms, finding even fewer there. Finally, he was moving the point of focus to the Slytherine dorms when he ran over a lone dot, tracking toward no where in particular. He held his wand over the dot and was a little surprised at the information it displayed. It couldn't be that easy.

xxxXXXxxx

The return of students from the holiday break was a mixed bag of emotions. Many of the student's were reluctant to resume the rigorous schedule of classes, even the ones they enjoyed. But most of those, and a good portion of the other pupils, were happy to see their friends again. Gossip and bragging were the first order of business, even for those that had stayed behind. Harry waited until he could put up a few privacy charms around a corner of the courtyard while Hermione put us some warming charms.

This done he turned to his friends, "I know what we told you before the break was a little shocking." Neville, Hannah, and Susan all nodded, so he continued, "I need to know, before we continue, if you can handle it. If you want out, I have no problem with that, and no hard feelings."

Susan shrugged, "I was expecting weird, but nothing like this. I'm good though."

Hannah sighed, "It is hard to accept that all the older legends are true, but not impossible. Those demonstrations you did helped, I'm in."

Neville was still looking a little nervous, but his holiday had helped. "My gran told be about the last war, and then there's my parents. I want's to help in any way I can."

"Okay." Hermione began, now that all the others were committed to the path, "Harry and I have been working on several different plans, one of which is a map to help us locate people anywhere in the world."

"Isn't that a little advanced for student's?" Hannah interrupted.

"I would say yes, except that the original was made by a group of student's two decades ago, and I happen to have access to one of the creators." Harry answered. "The Maurauders were a group of pranksters that spent a great deal of time exploring the castle and surrounding grounds."

Hermione picked up the thread of the explanation, "They then put the information together into a map that could track anyone who entered the area, allowing them to avoid staff while still pulling some of the best pranks in history, having yet to be surpassed by the even the Weasley twins."

"That map has been lost, but the knowledge of the original creator remained. So we made a new one." He revealed the new version of the Maurauder's Map to the group, demonstrating some of the features that had been added. "This was meant to be a prototype, allowing for the testing of several new techniques, but it has already yielded more than I could have hoped. Peter Petigrew is in the Castle."


End file.
